


Unwilling

by Ursus_minor



Category: Loki Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Tom Hiddleston Fandom
Genre: AU, AU Freeform, Alternate Universe - Historical, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki Does What He Wants, Loki has a heart, Loki is a Pagan God, Loki is an ass, Marvel-mythology Cross-over, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, early Viking era, jotun-Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 11:25:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19272310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursus_minor/pseuds/Ursus_minor
Summary: After your kin is slaughtered by a tribe from the East, you are enslaved by a warlord. But when you finally manage to escape you run straight into the arms of a malicious god, whose presence seems interwoven into the tapestry of your fate.Set in the early Viking era, therefore much darker than my other stories and violent, but not without plot or proper romance. The story contains elements of rape and violence against women.This idea was deviously planted into my head by Caffiend. 😏





	1. The night is darkest before the dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caffiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/gifts).



What frightened you was not the fact that you were out in the woods all by yourself on the darkest and most dangerous night of the year. No, it was the fact that someone was out here with you. And by the sound of the snow crunching under his boots it was a _man_. Tall, heavy build.

You did not fear _darkness, but_  you had learnt to fear _men_.

You quickly ducked behind a tree and spied out from behind the trunk, focusing your attention on the part of the forest where the sound of footsteps was coming from.

Your mind raced. Your heart sped up.

They would have discovered by now that you were gone, maybe even that you had left the village, but it was impossible that they would catch up to you in such a short amount of time, especially since you had carefully covered your tracks for a good part of the way. It could not be anybody from the village.

Judging by how much noise he made, he was not even concerned about being noticed, which, in this area of the forest, could only mean that he was either a marauder of the worst kind, a fearless warrior or – a fool.

Nobody else would come to these parts of the woods on the night of Yule.

You ducked further behind the tree when a tall, blonde man came into view, striding through the forest like he owned it. Even in the darkness you could make out a red cape that fluttered behind him in the chilly winter air and it looked like he wore armor.

A warrior then. 

Not something to be relieved about. If he was one of the men from the mountains, he was no better than a marauder of the worst kind. 

You bit your lip when he neared your hiding place. You could also hear him curse now and it was not a dialect you recognised.

Yes, a warrior. His long hair came down to his shoulders and was partly braided. He wore heavy armor of a kind you had not seen before.

A few feet from you he halted and your heart stopped.

_Had he discovered you somehow?_

You felt heat creeping through your body, perspiration dampening your skin, soaking the garments you wore underneath the thick fur coat.

Stay calm. 

You took a cautious deep breath but flinched when the man's loud voice thundered through the cold night.

“LOKI?!” He was obviously angry. “Brother, I swear that this will have consequences! Father is not going to let this slip!”

_There were two of them?_

A dark chuckle that made your skin crawl came from somewhere deeper in the woods.

_Could they not have chosen a different night to come out here?_

Yule was a night of priestesses, witches and druids. If you had expected to meet any living being out here, it would have been either of those. But anybody who was in their right mind would avoid the forest on this night. Everyone knew that it brought bad luck and that evil dark creatures lurked in the shadows on the night of Yule. 

"Show yourself!" You flinched again when the warrior called out into the darkness.

Silence.

The blonde shook his head. Then he marched on and disappeared between the trees. You waited until you heard the crunching sound of his footsteps fade, then you listened intently.

There were two of them and you had no intention of running into the other one.

The chuckle you had heard had sounded anything but kind.

When you were sure that you were alone, you left your hiding place.

You needed to cross the forest tonight and reach the village on the other side before sunrise, it was your only chance, because nobody would be foolish enough to follow you. 

Yule. The darkest night. Nobody dared to venture too far into the forest on this night. It gave you an advantage and you were desperate enough to take it.

The lore spoke of hideous creatures with dark souls that roamed these woods on the night of Yule. Ghouls and ghosts. Beasts with glowing eyes and –

“And who have we got here then?”

A cold voice came directly from behind you, the icy tone chilling your blood.

“Should you not be in your village, little mortal? Praying to your gods to save you from the long cold darkness that embraces your meager world at this place in time?”

Your heart stopped. This voice – was at once sweet like honey and cold as ice. It was spiteful. But most of all – it was malicious.

You wanted to run.

“Do not dare to move, mortal.”

_Mortal._

_What was he – a spirit? A ghost? A ghoul?_

The dark chuckle again.  

“No, mortal. I - am a _god_.”

There was a rush of cold air when he stepped up behind you.

_A god? What kind of god?_

Icy cold fingers brushed your skin as he tucked your hair behind your ear. You stiffened.

“I am the kind of god, nobody has the courage to pray to.”

His cold lips touched your ear, cool breath fluttering against your skin as he spoke.

“I am the kind of god, nobody dares to invoke, unless they seek protection from my wrath."

His words made you shudder.

"I - am the kind of god, nobody wishes to come across on the darkest night of the year.”

_A savage god._

The tribes from the mountains in the East had brought them to your people. Gods of War and strife.

The Eastern tribes had brought nothing but murder, rape and slavery for the women of your kin. These men had no respect and neither had their gods.

“ _Kneel_.” The god whispered. His tone as cold as ice.

Your lip quivered, but you held your chin high, even though you could feel your hands shaking. 

"I will not." You whispered, your voice much smaller than you had hoped for.

You would rather die then kneel before one of those gods.

You revered the Goddess and you would not cower anymore before men who killed and raped women. You would not cower, even before their gods.

“Insolent creature. Yet I must say, I admire your loyalty to your _Goddess_. Tell me, is it courage - or foolishness?"

His lips brushed your ear and a shudder ran through your body, this time you felt a different kind of heat, one that pooled between your thighs.

"If you knew what kind of god you chose to insult with your irreverence, you would be begging for mercy by now. But I shall be lenient, I shall give you another opportunity to pay your respects to me." His voice was honey dribbling down your skin, then it sliced through you like a blade of ice. "K _neel_ , mortal.”

"Never." You breathed, terrified.

“Very well. It appears as though you are in dire of a lesson of discipline and reverence.”

His hissed and you could tell he was angry. Maybe he would have the mercy to kill you.

"I am not a _merciful_ god."

You closed your eyes, but they flew open when he suddenly spun you around and grabbed your chin with his fingers, tilting your face up to look at him.

You gasped and your eyes widened in shock.

A pair of glowing red coals stared down at you.

His skin was as dark as the night and large rounded horns protruded from his head. And even though he looked human in stature his body was covered in fur.

_This was no god._

_This was a monster._

You were so terrified, you could not even move. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, when his cold fingers slowly closed around your throat.

“You dare to call me a monster?”

You swallowed.

"Kneel and beg for my forgiveness."

A mere two days ago, you had sworn to the Goddess that you were never going to implore the forgiveness of a man who treated you with disrespect. 

You were not going to allow anyone to degrade you anymore than they already had by enslaving you.

Tonight you had escaped the brute who had taken you captive. Escaped the punishments. The horror. The pain. The constant humiliation.

Could it be that the Goddess was testing you? To see how steadfast your determination was? How willing you were to die instead of bowing before man who had no respect for you?

Enough. You had suffered enough. You would rather die than beg his pardon.

You shook your head again and prepared for the icy fingers to squeeze your throat. 

To your surprise, his grip on your throat lightened and his hand slipped downwards coming to a rest on the fur collar of your coat. 

You opened your eyes and stared up into the pair of glowing red ones, a curious expression mixed into the cold anger that was clearly written all over his face.

But you had no time to wonder about it, as a blinding flash of light hit him and he cursed, letting go of you as he stumbled backwards. 

You did not hesitate. You did not turn around. You merely ran.

As fast as your feet could carry you.

You recognised the voice of the blonde warrior yelling the other one's name and heard the wood of the trees splitting. You did not turn around. 

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest and the cold winter air burnt in your lungs as you kept running.

Whoever this monster of a god was, you never wanted to encounter him again.

You ran blindly into the forest, and you were unsure of how long you had been running, by the time you stopped and braced your hands on your knees to catch your breath.

When you looked up you saw light between the trees in front of you and heaved a sigh of relief. You had reached the edge of the forest.

You were safe. You were - free.

You stumbled forward through the trees but when you stepped out of the woods you recognised the familiar huts that were illuminated by the glow of a large bonfire and realised with horror, that you had taken off into the wrong direction and had arrived back at the village.

Back at the very place you had attempted to escape. Back at the place that was home to the man who had enslaved you.

“Look who has come back home.”

_No. NO._

The voice sent chills straight to your bones and fear into your heart. 

Without a second thought you turned around and ran back into the forest, but it was too late. There was a thud and a blow to your calf before a searing pain shot up your leg. Your knee buckled and you collapsed into the snow. 

When you heard the crunch of his footsteps coming closer you grit your teeth and tried to stand, but your leg would not allow it. So you started to claw your way through the snow to get away from him.

Your scream pierced the night when he brought his boot down on your wounded leg and pulled the arrow from it with a twist.

“I knew you would come back, you cowardly whore.”

You bit your tongue and forced yourself not to scream again when he grabbed your hair and pulled you to your feet. You did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.

He grunted, glaring at you with eyes full of hatred.

Then he dragged you out onto the meadow by your hair and you stumbled after him hardly able to keep yourself on your feet. By the time he shoved you on the ground next to the fire, your face was wet with tears and you were sobbing quietly.

_Goddess have mercy._

“Is this how you repay my kindness? How you show your gratitude for keeping you alive?”

He kicked you hard into your side and you curled up in pain.

“I should have killed you like the rest of your kin. Should have taken my pleasure from you, but no, I  _spared_  you. I even considered giving you the honour of being deflowered by one of my sons, and you decide to insult me by running away? I am disgusted with you. I should strip you naked in front of everyone and let my warriors have their way with you."

You could literally feel the rage rolling off him. It scared you.

Because he knew what you feared most. He had broken you. He owned you.

He knew how to hurt you. 

Then he suddenly chuckled. 

"I think I have a punishment in mind for you that is even more befitting than being raped by my men.”

You felt bile rising up your throat. 

_Goddess have mercy and kill me._

He called over a couple of warriors. When they pulled you to your feet, you collapsed again, your leg was so weak that it was unable to hold your weight now. You had not eaten properly for days and the open wound weakened you considerably.

"Get up, wench." One of them kicked you and you winced, trying to pull yourself up onto your hands and knees. Then they seemed to notice your injury, because the grabbed your upper arms, just above the elbows and dragged you through the small settlement like this.

You were dropped rather unceremoniously on the earthen floor of a simple hut.

_At least it is warm in here._

You chuckled at the thought. This was insane. You were going insane.

Maybe it was from the blood loss. Your leather pants were soaked in blood by now and you could feel it pooling in your boot.

“What is the meaning of this?” 

You recognised the old man's voice. It was their godi. Their priest. Invoker of their gods.

“Replace the sacrifice with her.” It was your master's voice this time.

“It has to be a maiden of pure blood. This one is injured and not even from our clan.”

“And would you rather sacrifice one of our precious maidens to the monster?”

There was a long pause.

“He will notice if she is not of pure blood!”

“She is the offspring of a witch-priestess I murdered. A whore of the Goddess.”

“An ancient pure blood? She must be one of the last. Why did you keep her alive?”

“As a trophy. A trophy of our victory over the old ways. She was meant to be a coming of age gift for one of my sons, but she is an insolent beast.”

Something else was said which you could not understand, because your senses were dwindling.

They kicked back in with a vengeance when you were pulled upright and someone started ripping off your clothes.

“Leave me - alone!”

You thrashed about until one of the man twisted your arms behind your back and held you, while another stripped you naked.

You cried and kicked at them, the pain in your leg shooting straight to your head, almost robbing you of your senses. Having exhausted yourself, you finally slumped against the brute who held you.

“Dress her wound. Give her the potion. She needs to be ready and willing for him.”

They heaved you onto a bed, and you stilled when a woman leaned over you and placed her hand on your forehead.

“Shh. Calm down. Be strong.”

Something cool was pressed against you calf and you flinched, but then the throbbing pain lightened.

You glanced up at the woman with pleading eyes.

“Help me.” You mouthed.

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

You merely stared at her in disbelief when she turned away, hot tears rolling down the side of your face disappearing in your hair.

_Goddess have mercy. Was there nobody in this world who was going to aid you in your plight?_

_What was this sacrifice they were talking about?_

You flinched and whimpered when you felt a damp cloth on your skin. Another woman started cleaning your body with warm water.

“Drink this.”

The first women supported the back of your head and lifted a drinking horn to your lips. You took a gulp, but when you recognised the flavour you closed your mouth and turned away. It was pors. They were using herbs to try and make you compliant.

“Drink.” She urged you. “It will make it easier to take the pain.”

_Take the pain? What pain?_

You shook your head and pressed your lips tightly shut, she in turn tightened her fingers in your hair and pulled you head back roughly, aggregating your already sore scalp and as you gasped in pain, she poured the liquid down your throat. You gagged and coughed when she pulled the empty horn from your lips.

The women finished cleaning you and then they braided your hair. You lay there, feeling your limbs grow heavy and the dull throb of the wound in your leg, as you waited for the potion to take effect. They had given you a strong brew, so it would not take long until you would lose touch with reality.

_Pors._

You knew of the herbs use in magic and healing. A Völva could conjure visions and reach out to the goddess or ancestral spirits with its aid and in medicine it was known to reduce pain and infection, it also relieved one of the heaviness of the mind.

In high doses it could induce delusional states, hallucinations and a malleable mind.

You felt your consciousness slipping and grabbed the older woman's arm.

“What – what is going to happen to me?” You whispered. Every word a strain as your tongue grew heavier and your mind slowed down.

She gave you a weak smile and cupped your cheek with a motherly expression on her face that radiated pity above anything else.

“You are a sacrifice.” She said softly. “To the God of Chaos.”


	2. The dawn is a long way away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unwilling union with the god of chaos that will have consequences for everyone involved.

A shift in temperature made your body shiver and you opened your eyes. Your vision was blurry but you could make out the branches of a tree high above you, illuminated by the soft glow of fire. Several fires were lit around you, as you discovered when you turned your head. An action you regretted immediately as it made you dizzy. You closed your eyes.

The air was cold, the only comfort was that you were not lying on the snowy ground, but on a pile of furs which offered you some kind of warmth.

“If this isn't a welcome surprise.”

A honeyed icy voice wafted through the cool air and you turned your head to catch the gaze of a familiar pair of glowing red eyes staring down at you.

You could not remember where you knew him from or why he felt familiar.

You squinted to get a better look at him, but your was mind swimming in a sea of fog.

You were certain that you had never seen anyone like him before.

The skin of his face had a blue hue and his features were framed by raven-black hair and - you narrowed your eyes further – he had – horns.

Horns and fur.

Should this cause you to worry?

When he stepped closer you realised that it was a helmet and a coat and breathed a small sigh of relief.

His eyes studied your face intently.

You closed yours in an attempt to focus as keeping them open made you slightly nauseous.

There was a painful tug on your hair and you hissed. 

“Why can I not read your thoughts, mortal?”

He sounded angry. Why was he angry?

He let go of you and the fur of his coat brushed your skin as he turned around to walk away.

A moment later you flinched at the icy tone of his voice as he yelled something you could not understand. There was a shuffle of feet on the snow.

You turned your head but he stood beyond the fires and the light of the flames was making your eyes hurt.

Why did your body feel so numb?

Your mind so heavy?

“What is the meaning of this?” The sharp tone of his voice made you flinch again even though it was not directed at you. “Why has she been drugged?”

Nervous muttering.

You could not catch what they were saying, but it did not take long until you heard footsteps approach and he re-entered your field of vision.

"They dare lie to me, those fools." He muttered as he crouched down beside you.

"Your people have the nerve to lie to me. All lies apart from one thing. They claim that you are the purest maiden in the village and I know this to be true. I caught your scent out there in the forest, long before I even saw you." He roughly grabbed your chin and leaned over you. His eyes closed and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. "I have never smelled anyone as sweet as you. You have the redolence of a rare flower."

For a moment you thought you saw a soft mile lingering on his features, but then he stilled and his eyes snapped open, a look of confusion crossing his features, before his eyebrows knitted in anger.

You smelled like a flower ... why would that make him angry?

Why was he always angry?

You shrieked in surprise when he brought his face close to yours.

" _Who_ \- are you?"

His red eyes shifted between yours.

You just looked at him, unable to gather your thoughts and utterly confused.

“You lure me in with your scent. You were chosen as an offering and yet you dare to insult me in the woods by calling me a monster and refusing to kneel before me?”

Your eyes were glued to his face. The woods? A monster? Kneel? You waded through the thick misty swamp of your thoughts but you could not make any sense of his words.

He let you go and stood, unclasped his coat and dropped it on the ground, leaving him in pants and with a bare upper body.

For a moment you wondered if he was cold.

Then his hand reached out to touch you and you tried to scramble away. That was when you realised that your hands were bound above your head and tied to a wooden post in the ground.

What in the name of the Goddess?

You tugged on your restraints as he ran one of his hands over your body.

The fog in your mind cleared slightly as you felt a shiver of fear. Why did he touch you like this? What -

“Are you willing to receive your god?”

What – what did he mean by that?

Then he lowered his face next to yours and his breath tickled your skin as he asked,

"Are you willing to be taken by your god?"

Without a warning his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers pushing into you, making you cry out in surprise, shock and pain.

Panic flooded you and you frantically shook your head. You tried to scream or speak, but your tongue would not comply. 

He pulled himself back up and narrowed his glowing eyes at you. 

“Unwilling?” He muttered. “What kind of offering is this? Are you not aware of the consequences of being taken by your god unwillingly?"

You just stared up at him with wide eyes, frantically trying to organise your thoughts and control your body that seemed just as unwilling to follow your commands as your tongue and the rest of you.

He sniggered.

"Of course, you would be unwilling, irreverent creature that you are."

He retracted his cold fingers from your warmth and lowered his head to run his nose along your neck.

"Your god accepts the offering, willing or not. It is your village that will have to deal with the consequences. Does that change your mind?”

You shook your head and tensed when his tongue slithered up to your ear, leaving a cold wet trail on your skin.

“Are you frightened?”

You managed a nod.

“Good.”

His hand slipped under your head and grabbed a fistful of your hair, keeping you in place while his lips came down on yours and he forced his tongue into your mouth. You tugged on the restraints and finally your body responded. You brought your knees up and kicked him as hard as you could. 

He let go of your lips and merely laughed, as he effortlessly pushed your legs down and climbed on top of you.

"I will make you mine, little spit fire. I decided this the moment I found you out there in the darkness."

You stared up at him, breathing heavily as you wiggled underneath him, attempting to push him off you.

"Your struggling merely incites my appetite, mortal."

You shook your head and opened your mouth again, trying to form words, but you could not.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he lowered his body down on yours, his naked chest pressing down on you and his hips grinding against your core while he separated your legs with one of his.

You froze as his cold lips ghosted along your jawline and a soft moan escaped him when his teeth nibbled the skin of your neck.

You felt your body respond to his touch. 

And not in a way you had anticipated. 

This terrified you even more than the fact that he was going to -

"I do not plan on being gentle with you, but I will make sure you get pleasure out of it."

His hand roamed over your breast and your breath hitched. To your utter confusion, you felt a wave of pleasure rolling through your body as deft fingers pinched your tender bud through the fabric of your gown. 

The surprise must have been visible on your face because he chuckled darkly.

“Maybe not quite as unwilling as you claim to be?”

You felt his cool breath through the thin fabric of your gown as his mouth traveled over your chest, his lips making your nipple harden more before his tongue touched it, he sucked at the taught bud, making your body writhe under his as currents of pleasure shot through you.

He moved to your other breast to torment you in the same way, leaving the fabric damp when he pulled away to bring his attention back to your neck, the sensation of the now cold, damp fabric brushing against your tender buds with every small movement of your body made you moan softly.

You did not want this.

Did not want him to touch you like he did. He did neither revere or respect you. 

But your body betrayed you as it arched up into his touch, when his hand slipped under your gown to cup your breast. 

He placed his forehead against your sternum for a moment, breathing heavily through his mouth. 

Then he pulled back and ripped the front of your gown open and his teeth sank down in the soft flesh where your neck met your shoulder.

You cried out, tugging on your restraints.

One of his hands moved between your thighs and you desperately tried to clamp them shut, but when his fingers found your warmth, this time stroking it gently, your legs opened for him.

"I wanted you from the moment you defied me." He breathed against your skin. "And I always get what I want."

His fingers left you and he moved his body between your legs, shoving his pants down with one hand.

When his hot member brushed the tender skin of your inner thigh you panicked, but you were trapped beneath him.

"Please." Was all you could get out.

HIs hands ran up your sides as he lowered his body on top of yours, purring when he rubbed against your entrance.

"I know you want me. I can sense it, smell it."

You shook your head.

You did _not_.

A soft moan escaped you when he mouthed kisses down your throat.

Or did you?

You were not sure anymore what you really wanted. You were not sure what this god was doing to you to make your body want him.

He shifted his hips and you screamed when he thrust into you. Digging your fingersnails into the palms of your hands as you panted in pain.

He was too large. He was splitting you in half.

“Norns, you feel good.” He breathed against you. “Relax, wench.”

You tried, but the pain was unbearable. It felt as though your insides were being ripped apart.

They were on fire. Burning and throbbing.

You whimpered but tried to keep the tears from falling.

Do not give him the satisfaction to see how much he hurts you.

“I am almost inside you.” He groaned and with another sharp thrust, he sheathed his length deep inside your warmth, then he stilled.

You panted, your mouth open, eyes wide in shock. Your body tensed, wanting to shove him off you, push him away, get him out of you.

Your throat constricted painfully as you bit back your tears.

Then he started moving and you could not hold them back anymore, they spilled from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. 

“Do not cry. Relax and let me give you pleasure.”

_Pleasure?_

Your lip quivered. 

He licked the tears off your skin with his tongue in an illusively tender way.

"Shh." He slowly moved his hips, his hardness painfully stroking your burning insides. You winced. "Take me. It will be easier if you relax."

You bit your lips and allowed your legs to fall open and your inner muscles to soften.

He was right.

While his length was still stretching you, the throbbing pain lessened. Now that you relaxed, you became aware of his manhood brushing against spots inside you that made you want to move with him.

He purred approvingly when you did and brought both of your legs around his hips. He hooked his arm under one of your knees and folded your leg against your body, opening you up even more.

It felt - better.

Much better.

He caught your mouth with his and this time you did not resist when his tongue stroked along yours.

Heat started rising from the base of your spine and with it a burning need built inside you.

Heat and need.

The pain of his invasion mixed with pleasure and you pushed up against him, seeking relief. He groaned, meeting your movements with his.

The pain faded into the background as your need grew and the pace of his thrusts quickened. He breathed lustfully against your neck as he stroked your insides with relentless vigour.

Relief came a moment later, in form of a wave of bliss that rolled over you, making your body twitch and shudder and arch up under him. You felt his cold body stiffening and were vaguely aware of the twitching and throbbing sensation of his hardness as he spilled his seed inside your womb.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall. 

A clear, blue sky stretched out above you, illumined by a radiant sun, its rays touching the tall buildings of a golden city that was surrounded by an ocean whose waters dropped off over the edge into infinity. There were mountains in the distance. And there was a long colourful bridge. A palace. A beautiful garden.

A woman in a long dress stood in the middle of it and you gasped in awe when she turned towards you with a compassionate smile. You recognised her immediately.

_Goddess._

"What are you doing, mortal?" The god growled softly, still panting from the exertion of the act. "Get - out of my mind!"

The anger in his voice ripped through the vision that still hung in front of you. The image of the Goddess faded and the effect of the potion lifted from your mind. In an instant, memories of your life rushed up from the depths of your mind like well water gushing out of the earth.

The vision of the Goddess was replaced by the harsh realisation that you were a slave.

Replaced by the knowledge that you had been offered to savage god, after your failed attempt to escape your miserable life. And said god had just raped you.

But far more painful than any of this was the fact that you had given yourself to him. You had consummated the sacred act of union with him - and received a vision of the Goddess.

You sobbed as you realised what you had done.

You had betrayed your kin. The last shred of your dignity had been taken by this barbarian god. 

Yes, they had sedated you, manipulated your mind and made you docile.

But you should have resisted him. Should have fought him. 

The creature who had just consumated the sacred act with you was no other than the monstrous dark god from the forest and he had tricked your body into receiving him with pleasure. 

A savage creature with no respect for the Goddess. 

The pain of the realisation almost took away your breath. 

He flinched. 

"A monster." He whispered.

You winced in pain when he retracted suddenly from your wounded core. He did not look at you.

Without a word he stood and fastened his pants, before he picked up his coat and walked out of the circle of fires. 

You pulled your legs up and curled into a ball. 

_Forgive me, mother. Forgive me, sister. Forgive me, little brother. I shamed our family._

_Forgive me, Goddess._

“She was unwilling.” You heard the god's voice somewhere close. "You know what that means."

“Unwilling?” It was the godi. 

“This was my doing. She is the purest blood we have in our village, but she has a will of her own. I will make her pay for her insolence.”

Fear struck your heart when you heard your master's voice and his heavy footsteps nearing you.

You knew every single movement of his. You had learnt to tell his mood by the way he moved. If he was angry. Or pleased.

Right now, he was furious.

When you turned your face towards him you cringed. There was murderous lust in his eyes.

He would do horrible things to you before he killed you. 

The monstrous god was more merciful than him, maybe you should have begged him to kill you.

For a fleeting moment your master's face changed from anger to satisfaction. 

He could see it. 

He could see that the god had hurt you. That the god had taken away the last shred of your sacredness as a novice priestess. 

But the satisfaction on his face was short-lived.

"I was wrong to keep your alive. An unwilling offering? Did you fight him, silly whore? I should have known. He demands blood now to appease him, and I will make you suffer for this as I kill you."

In the corner of your eye you caught the glint of metal as he unsheathed his dagger.

_More pain. Just a little more pain and then it would be over. Finally over._

You prepared for the blade to slice into you, instead there was the ringing of metal and you opened your eyes to find the god's dagger underneath your master's, stopping it from hurting you.

“Do not dare touch her. She belongs to me now.”

“She shamed our village. She brought the curse of your wrath.”

“And it will be relieved by her blood.” The god's voice was so icy that it cut straight into your heart. "Her blood belongs to me. So does her heart - and I shall feast on it, after I ripped it out of her chest."

It was the first time you saw your master pale.

He slowly retracted his dagger and gave a bow.

"So be it, my lord." 

“Leave. All of you. Do not displease me any further.”

The noise of feet shuffling away.

Then silence.

The crackle of the fires was the only sound when you were left alone with the dark god, whose glowing red eyes were fixed on you. Your eyes wandered to the weapon in his hand. The polished metal of his dagger reflected the flames.

You suddenly felt at peace.

_You do not have to make it quick, as long as you make sure you kill me._

_You already destroyed all that I valued as holy and sacred, it will be a relief if you cut my treacherous heart out of my chest._

_I betrayed my kin. My Goddess. I do not deserve to live._

The blade flashed when he raised it and brought it above your head to cut your ties.

You did not understand.

He dropped down on his knees beside you and hoisted you upright to a seated position.

“Lies.” He muttered. “Humans have nothing but lies.”

“PLEASE.” You wailed as you slumped agaisnt his shoulder.

“Shh.” His hand smoothed over your hair.

“Please, kill me.” You begged. 

He stilled, then he placed his finger under your chin and made you look at him.

“They knew you were unwilling and they offered you to me on purpose, why?”

His cool skin soothed you somehow. 

“To humiliate me.”

"Who are you?"

You merely shook your head.

_A traitor, now that I betrayed my kin._

"Kill me. You promised."

_Do not leave me alive. Do not leave me to them. They will kill me eventually, after they have had their fill of me._

At least the one who you had consummated the sacred bond had been a god, a savage god, but at least not one of those brutes. 

The thought gave you comfort somehow.

At least he was a god.

"What - what have they done to you?" His voice was deceivingly soft.

Maybe he tried to trick you into comfort before he killed you? To make it easier for you?

No, he had said he was not a merciful god.

He was a confusing god, that was certain.

You leaned against his shoulder, exhausted. 

The god held you against him with one arm while his other hand ran down your throat and you just buried your face in his neck when he pushed the ripped gown open.

He wanted to take you again - you would let him.

As long as he killed you afterwards.

His fingers ran over your body, albeit not in the way they had before. He touched the bruises on your ribs that were the remnants of the beatings you had received, the scars from the lashings that curled around the sides of your body like angry red snakes.

You flinched he pulled the garment over your shoulder to inspect your back.

You sucked in a breath when he touched the most recent wounds. They were still tender.

“Sweet Allmother.” His voice was a mere whisper. “And you think me the monster?”

Had you had the strength and will power, you would have laughed at his words.

_Had he not just raped you? How was he any better than them?_

“You are my offering, I had the right to take you.”

At this you chuckled softly.

A priestess of the Goddess was an independent woman. She was meant to be free, fending for herself.

You were meant to take a lover who was your equal, not submit to a master like a dog.

You were meant for men who respected the power of your sacred feminine. You had been pure. Strong. 

And then you had given yourself to an uncivilised god with no mercy. 

“Kill me or at least give me your dagger, so I can do it myself.” You blurted out before you burst into tears.

You were so tired of this. 

He tucked your head under his chin and smoothed your dress back down to cover you, then he held you against him, gently stroking your hair.

You could not help but let the tears flow. Your fingers dug into his cold skin as you wept.

“Mother, if this is one of your tests - ” You heard him mutter softly.

Nothing happened for a while. You wept like a child in his arms and he waited for your tears to cease flowing, until he finally spoke.

“I will take you away from here.”

You blinked at him, confused, and shook your head.

"No. I have no reason to live anymore. You promised to take my blood."

"I lied."

_What in the name of the Goddess?_

"This will hurt." He warned when he placed the palm of his hand on your back and a tingling sensation radiated from it. Then the wounds on your back exploded in burning pain.

You buried your face in his chest and grit your teeth.

The pain soon receeded. But he proceeded to do the same to your bruised ribcage, before he tugged the bandage off your leg and you cried out when he did.

Now that the effect of the pors was gone, the wound was throbbing again and the skin around it was incredibly tender.

“They told me you hurt yourself while collecting mistletoe in the forest. I knew they were lying, but - this -” He inspected the wound. "They shot you like an animal?"

His fingers ran over the reddened skin and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

"Who did this?" His voice was icy and when you met his gaze those red eyes were blazing with rage, albeit not directed at you.

“My -” You did not want to call him master anymore. “The man who tried to kill me.”

The god nodded and rested his hand over your calf.

And that was when you realised what he had been doing. He was healing you.

Another pain shot through you. You tried to pull away, but he did not allow you to. When the pain ended, the wound had closed and formed a scar. You felt exhausted. 

"Will you kill me now?"

You raised your eyes to his.

He merely shook his head.

"Why?"

“Sleep.” He uttered the words as though they were an incantation and the next moment you felt your consciousness slip and the world around you grew dark.

 


	3. The sun has risen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and thank you for all the comments and kudos on this story!!  
> This chapter is a bit of a breather and will give her time to recover :) at least for a few days ... until Loki returns to stir up trouble...
> 
> Happy Independence Day everyone in the US!! :)

You woke up feeling too hot, so you threw the wool blanket and the fur off you and sighed with relief as air touched your skin. 

Slowly the noises of the world around you started seeping into your conscious awareness. The crackling of a fire, the soft howling of the wind outside and a soothing voice, softly humming a melody.

A female voice.

It reminded you of your mother, who used to sing and hum while she prepared herbs and potions or worked around the house. After all you had been through it was comforting to hear a female voice. After -

You shot upright in the bed you were lying in, your eyes darting around in a panic.

_Where were you?_

_What happened after you fell asleep?_

The memories of the night of Yule came back to you, and with them all the pain and shame. It had surely brought you bad luck to venture into the woods on the longest night of the year.

You buried your face in your hands. 

_The sacred bond was meant to be a ritual of mutual love and reverence and you had -_

You felt someone sit down on the bed beside you and instinctively skidded away, readying yourself to run if you needed to.

“It's alright, dear one.” It was the soft voice of a woman. A voice that was filled with kindness and warmth. You looked up at the elderly woman with long white hair that flowed over her shoulders and framed a kind face with kind hazel eyes. The skin around them crinkled when she offered you a smile.

“You are safe. No one can hurt you here. No men. And no gods either.”

You glanced at her with teary eyes.

“How?” You whispered.

“How do I know?”

You nodded.

“It did not take much guesswork to know that you had been mistreated after seeing your ripped clothes and the blood on them. The days of the Goddess are gone, we enter a darker time now and men can be monsters in this age.”

You stared at her.

"Who - are you?"

"My name is Eir."

"Like - like the goddess?"

Her smile widened and she winked at you.

"Just like the goddess."

You fell around her neck and clung to her as if you were afraid she would disappear any moment. It had been so long since you were able to find comfort in another person's arms, too long since you had felt pure kindness and compassion.

Eir patted your back and hummed.

“I can tell that you have been through terrible things, child. You are safe here and you can stay until I travel to the mountains in a half moon.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“Why don't you have some stew? You look like you haven't eaten in days.”

She stood, walked over to a large clay pot that hung above the fire and spooned some food into a bowl, which she placed on a table that was half covered in dried herbs.

"Come."

You did not move to follow her, but cautiously glanced around first. It was a simple, cosy cottage with an earthen floor and wooden walls. There were no windows, so you guessed it was one of those huts that were built into the ground and covered with turf. 

Eir encouraged you with a nod and when you finally moved to the edge of the bed you noticed that you wore a simple, clean night dress and when you put your feet on the floor, you spotted your boots. They looked clean apart from a few stains, so you slipped into them and walked over to the table.

The woman offered you a drinking horn which you eyed suspiciously.

“Elderberry-mead. A brew to keep good health during the winter.”

You nodded and tried a little. It tasted surprisingly sweet, which made you smile.

“I added some honey.”

She pushed the bowl of stew in front of you and you greedily put it to your lips to drink from it and hissed when you burnt your tongue.

“Slowly." Eir chuckled kindly. "Use the spoon. It is still very hot.”

She sat down next to you and watched as you carefully blew over a spoonful of stew to make it cool down before you put it in your mouth. It was quite likely the most delicious meal you had eaten in your entire life, so you wolfed it down, burning your tongue another couple of times in the process. It was at your mother's, the last time you had a proper meal. Something freshly cooked, not scraps or left overs, but a warm, tasty bowl of food.

After you finished, she filled you another half a bowl and you frowned.

“Can I have more please?”

Eir just shook her head and smiled.

“Eating too much will make you sick.”

Of course, you knew that. This was the first thing you learnt about nursing a starved person. As a healer, you would have agreed with her, but you did not necessarily agree with this philosophy now that _you_ were the actual starved person who had not eaten properly in days.

“Are you a healer?” You asked after swallowing another spoonful of the hearty stew.

She nodded, before she gestured towards the bowl of food.

“Keep eating, you can ask me questions once you finished.”

A short while later you pushed the empty bowl away from you and looked at her.

“Why are you doing this?”

Not many had the kindness to take in a complete stranger.

“He knows that I have a kind heart and would not reject a soul in need.”

"Who?"

“The young man who brought you here. A mischievous spirit and usually up to no good, but he does own a tender heart much like his mother.”

"The young man?"

"He found you in a village he passed through and said that you were in need of care as you had been mistreated and held as a slave."

_And had been offered to their savage god._

"Yes, he mentioned that too."

_Had you said that out loud?_

"I - I am in your debt now, but I fear I do not have anything to repay you with."

"Do not trouble yourself, my dear, there is no need to worry about compensating me. I am a healer, it is my duty to care for those in need." 

You looked at her.

“The man who found me - who – who is he?”

“Consider him a friend.”

You must have looked confused, because she patted your cheek in a motherly way.

“Enough talking, I think you need more rest.”

"But-"

"What matters most is that you are safe and that you can stay here until you recovered."

You nodded, then you returned to the bed and slipped under the covers. Eir returned to sorting through the herbs on the table, and you listened to her soft humming, while you watched the dance of the flames in the fire place. 

You wondered what had happened after you had fallen asleep in the god's arms. 

_Why had he been kind to you after he had forced himself upon you? Why had he healed your wounds?_

Something stirred inside your chest when you thought of him.

No matter how cruel he may have been or how terrifying, he had been appalled when he found out that you had been tortured. 

_Why?_

_He had raped you. Why would he care?_

You closed your eyes, the memory of it making you shudder. 

_Why had he not killed you?_

_And what had happened after you fell asleep._

_Had he just left you there, at the sacrificial site? Was that where the man had found you?_

You could see the god's face in front of you. those glowing eyes. The patterns on his skin.

The way he moved inside you.

You pushed one hand between your legs.

_Stop. Stop._

_Why did this give you pleasure?_

The memory of his breath against your skin, his body moving on top of yours, his voice.

His voice.

You pushed it away. 

 _Sleep._ You told yourself. _Sleep._

 

The next couple days you only left the bed to eat and sit in front of the fire place. Eir was busy tending to people in a nearby village. She left in the morning and returned later in the day, at times she was gone during the night. Childbirth. She explained. 

After a few days you felt more like yourself again.

Alive and free.

It took a while to realise that it was over. That you had finally escaped the monster who had killed your kin and held you like an animal.

You were unsure how many moons you had spent in captivity and struggled to keep your sanity. 

He had been fully aware that you had no reason or wish to stay alive, that is why it gave him malicious pleasure to cause you pain and humiliation and bring you right to the brink of your sanity, right to the brink of death - only to take it from you. Take the hope of salvation. No matter what happened, he always made sure that you wouldn't die.

Eir was like a mother - compassionate, kind and loving and you desperately needed the safety and warmth she offered to heal those things that still haunted you in your dreams. 

One afternoon you sat by the fire when Eir came home. She brushed the snow off her cloak and hung it up to dry it out, then she considered you with a long silent glance. 

“What happened at the sacrifice?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“You were chosen as the god's offering, were you not?”

You felt the colour drain from your face and turned away.

Apart from the fact that the god had violated all your boundaries and taken you against your will, it still shamed you that you had given yourself to him.

Eir waited patiently until you were ready to speak. 

“He -” You broke off. "I was not chosen to be his offering. The man I belonged to wanted to take revenge, because I tried to run away and he - he gave me to the god."

Eir let out a sharp breath and her gaze darkened.

"He took you against your will?" Her tone was stern all of a sudden and you were afraid that you had said the wrong thing, but then she knelt down next to you and gently ran her fingers over your hair.

"It's alright, child, but I need to know what he did."

"He - I - they gave me pors, so that I would be docile and willing, but I - I couldn't. I tried to fight him, but they had tied me down - and he - he said I was his to do as he pleased."

You turned away and thought you heard her mutter something under her breath that sounded like “That little brat.”

“Did he hurt you?" She asked out loud. "I saw that you had freshly healed wounds. Was it him who inflicted them upon you?”

You quickly shook your head.

"No. No, he did not hurt me."

You stared at the fire, desperately trying to push back the memories. 

"What is it that you are keeping from me, child?" 

Your lip quivered.

_How could you possibly tell her that you had betrayed the Goddess?_

“I was a novice priestess." It was out. "I did not want it, but – he – I - we consummated the sacred marriage."

You buried your face in your hands, feeling your cheeks heat up in shame.

"The sacred union? With a god who took you against your will?" Eir shook her head. "This age is truly one of darkness and chaos."

"I - I don't know how it happened. How I could have - I begged him to kill me! But he - he wouldn't. He healed me instead."

You wrapped your arms around your knees and kept your gaze on the fire.

"How can I live like this? I betrayed the Goddess with a savage god, a wild creature – how could I have chosen him for this? It was meant to be an act of love, not one of violence. It was meant to be willing and of mutual agreement. I – I do not understand why I gave myself to him – and I am so - ashamed. I have betrayed my Goddess with this beastly creature!”

Hot tears of shame and anger were spilling from your eyes. You despised yourself for what you had done and you were angry that you had been so weak.

Eir put her arms around you and rubbed soothing circles on your back. 

“Now now. He's not quite as beastly as you may believe. Beauty is only skin deep, is that not what they say? The truth is often invisible to the eye. Let me assure you that the Goddess will not be displeased with you for having consummated the act with this god. She knows and loves all her children, even the fierce ones."

She patted your back.

"He is a conceited young god who has grown impudent. But accepting an unwilling offering and forcing himself upon a priestess of the Goddess, will have consequences for him."

"What - what does that mean? You - know him?"

“I have been serving the Goddess for my entire life. I am familiar with the gods that roam this realm, so yes, I know who he is. More importantly, I would like to know if you wish to take him to trial.”

“Take him to trial?"

"It is the right of a priestess to take a man to trial, who has forced himself upon her."

"But – he is not a man. And those laws – they do not exist anymore, do they?”

“Not on Midgard, no. But in the other realms the Goddess still holds power. Is it your wish to bring him to trial before the gods?”

“It is.”

He had violated you. Taken the last shreds of your sacredness. If there was such a thing as justice, you wanted him to face the consequences. 

“Then I shall let her know.” 

You stared at her.

"How?"

He cupped your face with her hand.

"I have my ways, child."

  

*** 

 

A loud rumble of thunder rolled through the overcast winter sky, a blaze of light shot through the clouds and for a brief moment, a pillar of light connected the earth with the heavens, illumining the forest in front of you with an otherworldly glow, before it retreated just as quickly as it had appeared - and the woods around you fell silent.

You stood frozen on the spot.

_What in the name of the Goddess?_

You walked faster swerving from your path and towards the place between the trees where the pillar of light had touched down.

As you drew closer, you saw steam rising from the ground. The snow had melted in a perfect circle, the uncovered brown grass looked singed and you recognised a runic pattern on the forest floor.

You gasped.

A figure lay motionless in the centre of the circle.

A man. Clad in dark leather. 

You immediately drew back to hide behind a tree, questioning your decision of following your curiosity and investigating the light.

When the man groaned you peered out from behind the tree and watched as he slowly unfolded from his position on the ground. Your eyes grew wide as he rose to his feet. Her moaned as if in pain, when he rolled his shoulders and adjusted his neck, revealing the blue hue of his skin.

_Sweet Mother Goddess! Surely the Norns must be jesting!_

“That truly was unnecessary, Heimdall.” The god muttered, evidently irked.

You panicked for a moment and hesitated for another, uncertain of what to do.

This was a mistake, because the moment of hesitation was long enough for the god's gaze to find you.

“You!” His blue finger pointed at you, red eyes blazing with fury. “Get out from behind that tree!"

You bravely left your cover, keeping your eyes on him.

It was the god's eyes that widened in surprise now.

"YOU? What are _you_ doing here, mortal?”

“Uh. I – am - collecting tree bark. For potions.” You stuttered and took a careful step backwards.

_Gracious Goddess, this god seemed to follow you like a curse!_

You took another step backwards as the dark god approached you with large strides.

"Stop." He ordered and you obeyed immediately.

He halted right in front you, his eyes glowing dangerously. He looked angry.

_Why was he alwas angry?_

“You, mortal, are the bane of my existence.”

You blinked at him.

" _What?_ " 

Was all you mustered, before your eyes skimmed over his features and you were suddenly distracted by his appearance.

Seeing him up close in broad daylight made your eyes widen even more. He looked - different. Almost - beautiful.

While those red eyes were still intimidating, the blue hue of his skin had a subtle sparkle, like snow sparkling in the sun. It looked as though the surface of his skin was made from countless tiny crystals and you could see those patterns on his skin more clearly now. They were slightly raised, swirls and lines meandering over his skin. 

While he had worn a helmet and coat last time, he was now wearing a black leather armour which was embellished with gold.

"Are you even listening to me, mortal?"

Your eyes flicked back to his. 

_Had he been speaking to you?_

"Uh - sorry."

The god shook his head. 

“I said that I was thrown out of Asgard because of you and that it would be wise for you not to cross my path _ever_ again."

_Oh._

You froze.

_Oh no._

_Of course, you had asked him to be taken to trial, had you not?_

What had you been thinking! He was a malicious god who would surely seek revenge for your arrogance. 

_No. Don't give into your fear now. You're neither weak nor a coward._

It hadn't been arrogance on your part. It was your right to make him face the consequences of his actions. It was _he_ who needed to take responsibility for what he had done.

You were about to open your mouth in defiance, when he spoke again.

"I was cast out, because I decided to put an end to that monster who called himself your _master_ and all the rest of those barbaric creatures in your village." 

“W-what?”

“The sacrifice.”

“You – you killed him?”

“They knew that an _unwilling_ offering would bring misfortune to the village."

"You - _killed_ \- everyone in the village?"

You shuddered. He was a ruthless god. 

"It was a village of pilferers, rapists and liars. They did not deserve to live. But you are missing the point! The point is that I saved _one_  mortal life – and look where it got me! I was thrown out of my home. And guess what, it is ALL YOUR FAULT!"

He yelled the last words at you and you felt like a rabbit facing a wolf. His words had such power that the force of his anger left a tingling sensation in every single cell of your body. 

"Get out of my sight before I change my mind and rip your heart out, just like I promised to do.”

You felt the colour drain from your face and took another step back.

_How he could say such ghastly things?_

_He was a god._

_He had killed an entire village._

_He could do things much worse things than your former master would have ever been able to._

You wanted to run, but your feet would not move.

He glared at you, his chest heaving, evidently growing impatient.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Sight. NOW!”

That's when you snapped out of your stupa and ran.

As you took off, you heard him roar in anger, followed by the loud noise of splintering wood.

_Goddess, protect me!_

When you reached your home, you bolted the door and quickly muttered a few incantations to invoke the protection of the Goddess.

_Why? Why had She sent him here of all places? To the place where you lived now?_

Your heart was racing as you dropped down on your knees. 

He had threatened you, but he didn't know that you had been the reason that he was cast out. 

Or were you even? Maybe he had not been cast out because of you, after all. Maybe this was just a terrible coincidence.

A terrible, terrible coincidence.

 

 ***

 

You took a different route to cross the forest and reach the village the next day. Before Eir left for the mountains, she asked if you were willing to take on the role of a healer for the people in the small settlement and you agreed. It meant that you had a roof over your head and your life had some purpose. 

And that you were doing something that you loved.

Due to your training as a priestess you had extensive knowledge of healing herbs and plants, as well as preparing potions and salves and you knew how to treat the most common ailments and wounds.

People in the village were grateful for your presence as they had lost their healer in an attack and Eir had merely filled her place.

It was a peaceful clan too, who revered the god Freyr, one of the gods you were familiar with from stories your mother had told you. Freyr was a god of agriculture and fertility, who belonged to the realm of the Goddess - the realm of Vanaheim.

"You take this paste and apply it to his throat before bed, cover it with a warm cloth and leave it on until the morning. The swelling should go down within two days, then you should be able to feed him. Start with a strong bone broth."

You looked at the woman next to you and handed her a small jar of a salve you had prepared. She gave you a nod and a thankful, kind smile as she took the jar from your hand. Then she turned to the feverish child who was sleeping on a bed of furs and lovingly stroked her son's head.

You squeezed her arm gently.

"He will be fine. He is a strong young boy." 

"Thank you, læknir."

"It is my duty, Gunnhild."

"Let me give you some of the honey-bread I baked yesterday." She said and took your hand.

You shook your head.

"No, I have enough to eat, while you will need all you have to feed your children."

"But -"

"Be sure that I wouldn't decline it if I needed it, good woman. I know that the village will look after me should I be in need."

The woman cupped your face and nodded.

"You have a good heart. May Eir bless you."

"I think she already has." You winked and she laughed softly.

That very moment the door flew open and a gust of cold air blew snowflakes into the small cottage, Gunnhild's husband stumbled inside, leaving the door open, so she quickly got up to shut it. 

"Arne, what is the matter?"

"Hveðrungr!" He panted, out of breath and a look of fear crossed the woman's face.

"Are you certain?"

"I've seen him. With my own eyes. In the forest."

You looked from one to the other, attempting to understand what they were talking about.

They both started at each other and seemed to have forgotten you were there until you cleared your throat.

"Who is - Hveðrungr?"

Gunnhild turned to look at you, her eyes glossy with tears.

"The angry god." She whispered. "He brings destruction."

"The _angry_ \- god?" An uneasy foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach.

"We heard him before we saw him." Arne wiped his face and leaned forward on the table, still slightly out of breath. He had clearly been running. "The angry roar. I'll never forget it. A sound that makes the hair on the neck of the bravest warrior rise in fear. Then we saw him. The trees splintered like dry wood under his force. We did not wait, but came straight back to warn everyone."

"But why - why would he come here?" Gunnhild asked, her voice shaky. "We never did anything to draw his wrath."

"We took in the women and children who came to seek shelter a half moon ago -" He halted and then his eyes fell on you. "They saw Hveðrungr slaughter their husbands and lay waste to their homes, but they escaped his wrath. Maybe that awoke his ire - maybe he is here to take them."

"Freyr help us."

_Hveðrungr._

_So, that was his name?_

_The angry god._

_He did seem angry all the time._

"I do not think he will harm the village." You heard yourself say and the couple looked at you. 

"How would you know?"

"He had a reason to destroy that other village." you bit your lip. You hoped you were right.

Arne straightened up to his full height and glared at you. 

"Did _you_ bring him here, priestess? Is Hveðrungr looking for you?"

His voice was dangerously low now.

You quickly shook your head.

"No, no, I didn't. He's not looking for me."

Well, at least that was what he had said - that he did not want to see you again. Ever. 

"Then what makes you think he will spare us? What was his reason to destroy their village?" 

"He was - avenging someone." The moment the words left your mouth you realised how true they were. The god had not only protected you, he had avenged you. The thought made your heart flutter. "He saved someone's life and killed those who had - who had hurt her."

Gunnhild and Arne stared at you with wide eyes and you realised too late what you had said. That this god had killed for _you_.

You had just put fear and distrust into the hearts of people who trusted you.

"You." The woman stuttered. "It was you who brought his wrath to that village?"

Gunnhild's hand flew up to her mouth, her eyes filled with fear as she looked at you.

You shook your head.

"No, that's not - that's not what I said." You wished you could take back the words you had spoken.

"You claim to be a priestess of the Goddess. Why would you invoke such a wrathful god?" Arne's voice was stern, he was clearly starting to doubt the story you had told them.

"I - I did not - invoke him. They - they offered me to him against my will."

Their eyes widened even more.

"An offering against your will?"

"He must have come here to take you back."

"No, no, please. He's not here for me."

_Although probably because of me._

"You must go and appease him or leave, lest he comes and slays us all." Arne said.

You stared at them.

"Please, please, don't send me away. Eir said that I could stay. that I would be safe here." You whispered and the woman's eyes softened. 

"She is right, Arne. Eir said we can trust her, so we should."

Gunnhild approached you, albeit cautiously and put an arm around your shoulders. 

"Forgive our fear. But if it is _you_ who Hveðrungr seeks, then you need to go and appease him."

"It is _not_ me, who he seeks. He said he would kill me if I ever crossed his path again, so don't send me out there." 

Gunnhild gently rubbed your back. 

"Well, then it may be the others we gave shelter to." Arne said. "I will warn the elders."

"Wait." You looked up at the man. "He did not come for anyone, but I fear that it is my fault he is here. I will go and speak to the elders myself."

 

 

_læknir  ( pronounced "like-near") - healer_

_Hveðrungr (pronounced something like "Kvethroonger") - and is another name for Loki, meaning the roarer, the roaring one_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. High Noon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I am terribly, terribly SORRY but I had to post yet another chapter, since I had a serious writing bout ... Hope you guys are not getting too annoyed with the frequent updates! 😜
> 
> In this chapter ... reader gets to face the hot and angry god in the forest

They elders sent you out into the forest of course. 

To seek the god's forgiveness on behalf of the village.

You huffed. 

"Is it not going to endanger her, if we send her out there by herself?" One of them asked.

"As his offering, she already belongs to him. It is unlikely that he would kill her." A woman answered.

_That wasn't exactly reassuring._

_Apart from that, you did not like the sound of "she belongs to him". You weren't anyone's possession. Not even a god's._

You did not say anything, just stood there, in the middle of the langhús attempting to recall what you had learnt in your training. 

_Do not let your emotions control your mind or actions._

_Rest in you centre and do not waver from it, no matter what circumstances you find yourself in._

_Trust in the Will of the Goddess to supply you with all you need._

You took a deep breath. 

"I apologise for bringing him here unintentionally. It was my right as a priestess to take him to trial, but I never intended to bring him here. Or endanger anyone. It is my duty as a priestess to take responsibility and find a solution."

"Words wisely spoken." One of the elders, who had kept in the background rose to his feet. He had been sitting in a far corner of the house and as he stood, you noticed how tall he was.

"Even the gods have to obey certain laws. If he has accepted an unwilling offering, he violated these laws. Even without you taking him to trial, he would have had to suffer the consequences."

The low baritone voice held such authority, you were sure that the man was the chieftain himself. You peered at him over one of the women's shoulders, trying to get a better look, but it was hard to make out his face, as it was hidden in the shadow of the hood of his long grey cloak. The only thing you made out was a white beard with neat braids woven into it. 

The other elders turned around also, surprise clearly written on their faces before their features changed and mirrored deep respect, as the tall man approached.

"What is the advice you wish to give us, Gangráðr?" One of the men asked respectfully.

"By taking you without your consent, Hveðrungr has bound himself to you without his knowing."

_Oh._

"By taking him to trial and demanding him to take responsibility, you have even strengthened that bond."

_What?_

"Understand this, priestess, the god is in your debt and he will only be released when this debt is paid off - in full."

You narrowed your eyes. This sounded worse than you could have anticipated.

"How is this _debt_  going to be paid off?"

"He shall be released as soon as you have forgiven him."

"Uh - ok, that should be easy. I - I forgive him. Is there a prayer I can sing? Or a blótI can offer to release him? I do not wish for him to be here."

"I am afraid it is not that simple."

You spread your hands up to towards the sky and closed your eyes, focusing on the centre of your being.

"Goddess, hear me. I forgive him. Bless him and take him back where he belongs. Please?"

The elder chuckled and shook his head.

Then he stepped forward into the light. Your lips parted when you caught sight of his features. His face was grim, the white hair fell down to his shoulders and it was adorned with the braids of a warrior.

His gaze pierced you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. One stormy grey eye was fixed on you, while the other was missing entirely, the empty hollow covered only by scarred skin. 

He regarded you for a long moment.

"The bond will be broken, when Hveðrungr seeks your forgiveness." 

_What?_

"He - he will never do that."

You thought you saw a smirk dancing around the corners of the elder's mouth. 

"In that case, I believe, he will be bound to you for a while."

You gasped loudly, feeling anger rise in your chest.

_He had the audacity to joke about this?_

"How dare you ..."

You broke off, remembering you were speaking to your elders and you were not even a valid member of this clan. 

"Remember what your mother taught you, child. She was a priestess of the Goddess, a wise woman, who had respect for herself as well as others."

"I apologise."

"You have a rash tongue, no wonder he took a liking to you." The elder muttered under his breath. 

"To reassure the people of this village, I advise you to go and seek him out. Seek his forgiveness on behalf of the people and ask him to spare the village."

"He said he will kill me, if I ever crossed his path again!"

"His tongue is as rash as yours and he is also known as the God of Lies. Rest assured, he will not kill you."

_He will not kill you! Right!_

Reassuring words before they sent you out into the woods.

A knot of fear tightened in your stomach as you trudged through the snow.

After all, he was a ruthless god. He had obliterated an entire village of fierce warriors.

And you were walking straight into his arms. 

 _"The bond will be broken, when Hveðrungr seeks your forgiveness."_ The words of the elder echoed in your head. 

_As if that was ever going to happen._

You began to regret your decision of taking the god to trial. 

He may have avenged you, but he had wronged you and you did not want to seek his forgiveness, even on behalf of the clan who had taken you in.

_Selfish. You were selfish._

Those people had been good to you. They had taken you in and looked after you. You owed it to them. They were merely worried about the safety of their women and children. 

You took a deep breath. You would merely ask him to stay away from the village and then you would leave.

You huffed again. 

_As if he would listen to you!_

You had reached the part of the forest, which, due to the god's anger, had now become a clearing. 

The devastation was terrifying. What used to be a dense forest, was now a barren graveyard of trees. Trees that had been cut down right to the roots and lay slain and scattered all over the forest floor. 

Beautiful trees.

You bit your lip.

He had destroyed them all. 

It made your heart clench. 

He was a _heartless_ god. 

And he was bound to you until you had forgiven him - or rather, until he had _asked_ your forgiveness.

Which was - _impossible_. An impossible task for both of you.

He destroyed what you held dear. He was ruthless, brutal and heartless. 

And you - you were much too proud.

Apart from that, he frightened you. 

You climbed over the dead trees, searching the place for the familiar blue skinned god, but he was nowhere to be found. So you began to wander the forest aimlessly, looking for him.

The people of the village had entrusted you with this. You should at least try.

There was a noise behind you and you spun around. A bird fluttered up into the sky. You sighed, relaxed and took a step back, bumping into something hard behind you. 

The next moment, a strong arm gripped you around your waist from behind and the cold steel of a dagger was pressed against your throat. 

"Did I not warn you, mortal?" The familiar voice hissed into your ear.

You swallowed.

_"Rest assured, he will not kill you."_

_Right._

The steel on your throat was all too real and so sharp that you felt it pierce your skin when he pressed the point of the dagger under your chin.

"Don't kill me. Yet." You muttered. 

"Give me _one_ reason."

You were quiet.

"I should kill you for disobeying my direct orders. Do you have no respect, wench, even for a god?"

You were unsure of what to say to this. A large part of you had lost respect for men who ordered you around and threatened you.

"I - I believed you when you said you would kill me if I ever crossed your path again."

"And yet, here you are."

"But I am not here on my behalf. The people in the village - they fear you."

"Well, they evidently know their place, while you - are _evidently_ in the denial."

"Please, don't hurt them."

"Is this why you came here? To plead for their lives? Well, do it properly then, pet."

He let you go and shoved you forward, so that you stumbled and fell down on your knees. You were about to rise when his hand landed on your shoulder pushed you back down. 

"It would have saved you so much trouble, little mortal, had you kneeled before me when I asked you to."

You clenched your teeth, the knot in your stomach dissolved as it started to twist in anger. 

_You would never forgive him._

_Not even if he came grovelling, kissing your feet and pleading you._

"How dare you." You whispered.

"Pardon me?" The god leaned down and you felt his breath against your neck. "Are you still being insolent?"

He took a deep breath and you realised he was inhaling your scent.

"You bewitch me with your purity and your innocence, but your pride is going to be your downfall. I have already made you mine, so do not force me to lay claim on you again."

You swallowed. Was he - suggesting - that he -

You attempted to push yourself up again, but the hand that rested on your shoulder held you down with inhuman strength and kept you in place.

"This is your place. At my feet. You claimed you were unwilling and yet you moaned underneath me like a whore."

_Enough. You had enough of men humiliating you._

You screamed in anger. 

"I HATE YOU! You are a spawn of wickedness, a heartless monstrosity who dares to call himself a god. I will NEVER kneel before you or moan for you in pleasure. _Never_!"

"Such a loose tongue." He was suddenly in front of you, squeezing your chin between his fingers and pressing his dagger against your lips. "Maybe I should do us both a favour and cut it out."

Your eyes widened in terror and a devious smile twisted the god's lips.

"Finally. Afraid?"

He cocked his head to the side and let go of you. 

You did not think, as you drew your arm back before you let it shoot forward and hit him in the face as hard as you could. 

You bit back the pain that shot up your arm and tried to suppress the tears that spilled out of your eyes when you pulled your hand back. Judging by the pain, the bones were shattered.

_No time to dwell on pain. Run._

You darted off into the forest.

As you ran, you became aware of what you had done.

You had assaulted a god. 

Not any god, but one of the worst kind. 

More sliding then running you skidded down a steep slope and blindly ran out onto a white field of snow that spanned in front of you.

"Stop! Don't go any further!" His voice came from close behind you.

_Don't obey him._

_This time he is going to kill you._

_But this time, you were neither ready nor willing to die._

A loud crack that came from the ground underneath your feet caught your attention and when you looked up, you realised that you had run out onto the frozen river. 

You skidded to a halt. 

"Stay." You heard his voice, coming from somewhere behind you. "Stay right there. Do not move."

Your heart hammered in your chest. When you turned around, you watched as the god slowly closed the distance between you, holding his arms out, palms up as if to reassure you.

"Do not move."

His voice was low, soothing, as though he was speaking to a frightened animal.

"Look at me. Stay calm."

You searched his eyes, before your gaze flickered to a movement of his hands and you noticed in horror that ice was growing from his arms and moving towards you.

Your eyes snapped back to his face. If you had to choose between being killed by the god or the river, you would choose the river.

You turned and ran, the ice giving way beneath you as the ground broke open.

You heard him yell something as you submerged in the freezing waters. The cold knocked the air from your lungs and your consciousness dwindled as the current washed you away, pushing you underneath the sheet of ice that covered the river.

 _Trapped,_ you thought. 

_A prisoner, even in death._

The world became black as you lost consciousness.

You cracked your eyes open.

The cottage. 

It smelled like soup and the fire was crackling. You were in your bed, wrapped in furs and soft blankets. 

_You were at home. With Eir._

You smiled at the thought.

_A nightmare. It had been a nightmare._

You sighed and turned around to nestle deeper into the soft blanket.

Only that it was _not_ a blanket.

You shrieked and tried to scramble backwards but the pair of strong arms that was wrapped around you tightened in a merciless embrace.

"You are awake." His voice whispered against your hair. "I feared that I had succeeded in making good of my threats."

You tried to hold still, but managed to bring your hands between your bodies and gently pushed against his chest to put some space between you.

"You have a neat hook - for a mortal. But it did more damage to your hand than to my jaw. I had to heal those broken bones."

He spoke softly, in the same soothing voice he had used after the sacrifice.

_Don't trust him._

"Let me go." Your voice was surprisingly strong. 

"Your temperature dropped too low, I am merely aiding you in bringing it back to normal."

He moved, slipping one of his legs between yours as he pulled you closer. 

"Heating you up."

You braced your hands against his chest.

"Let me go." You whispered. 

"I saved your life, my little mortal."

"I am not. _Your_ \- mortal."

"Well, your'e in my house, my bed, my arms. I guess that makes you my pet."

You stilled when he moved again and his lips found your neck. He pressed gentle kisses on your skin.

Your body responded instantly to his touch, with pleasant tingles that trickled along your skin pooling as heat between your thighs. As if he knew, he pushed the leg that lay between your thighs upwards, pressing it straight into your sensitive parts. 

You stiffened.

"I - I thought you wanted to kill me?" You muttered.

"Changed my mind." He purred.

"Cut out my tongue?" You suggested.

"I'll find other ways to keep your mouth busy."

That didn't sound good.

When you gasped as he rubbed his thigh against your core, he captured your mouth with his.

The kiss was - it was - it -

It melted your core and made you move your hips against his thigh and moan softly.

_No._

_No, you did not want this._

_This god had threatened to kill you, frightened you and chased you through the forest like deer._

_You were not going to -_

A loud moan left your throat when his mouth abandoned your lips and latched onto one of your breasts, sucking and licking. It aroused a painful throb in your womb.

"W-what are you doing?" You stammered.

"Exploring." The god murmured against your skin. 

"This is - I don't want this." 

 _He was arrogant, conceited and heartless. You did not_ _want -_

He raised his head to search your eyes and cocked an eyebrow.

"You are so unaware of what you need, my little mortal, because your mind is telling that what you _want_  is _not_ what you _need_."

_What?_

"Relax, pet. You owe me your life, so consider offering your body to me as repaying the debt. It might ease your conflicting emotions."

"No." You muttered as he returned to sucking your breast. "Nonono."

The god ignored you and kept up his ministrations, while the temperature of his skin slowly changed. He was growing colder as his lips moved over the skin of your belly and you sighed as goose bumps blossomed on your skin. 

If he took you again, and you were unwilling, did that mean it would strengthen the bond?

You bit your lip. 

_Maybe he was right? Maybe you needed to give in to what your body wanted?_

Your body responded so willingly to his touch. 

It was just your mind. It was your unwillingness to submit to him. And your pride. 

Maybe if you gave yourself to the pleasure -

You gasped when his cool mouth settled over your warmth, his cold tongue dipping inside you, sliding along your -

_Oh Goddess! Have mercy!_

You gripped his hair tightly to pull his head away and he moaned.

"Stop! Stop! What - what are you doing?" You whimpered, unable to keep your hips from bucking up against his lips. 

Your fingers raked over his scalp and threaded in his hair. 

Such soft hair.

His mouth suckled on your sensitive parts, while his wicked tongue licked and twisted as it thrust into you. 

_Goddess, this wasn't - was this meant to make you feel like this? Was he meant to give you pleasure like this?_

You groaned loudly, when his teeth grazed over a very sensitive spot and you pressed your thighs together, his head in between, unable to bear the sensation any longer. 

The god's arms came around your thighs and gently pushed them apart. 

"Please. Stop." You panted.

"Relax." He spoke against your folds, his cool breath aggravating the already hyper sensitive skin.

When his tongue returned to caressing you, one of his hands slipped from your leg and you could not help a whimper to escape your throat when two fingers pushed inside you.

"Please."

He licked along your soft parts, twirling his tongue around that sensitive bud. 

"Tell me what you want." He ordered.

"Make it - _stop_." 

"Make what stop?" He blew cold air over your folds and your body shuddered. Your back arched on its own accord, as his cold lips mouthed kisses over the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

"What are you asking of me, pet?" 

"The - pain - so tight - it hurts - can't bear it anymore." You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, embarrassed by your own neediness.

"Where is the _pain_?" The tone of his voice was deceivingly kind.

_How could he be so calm? When you were dying underneath him? From his very touch?_

"Here." You whined. 

One of your hands slid down to your core. When you touched your moist warmth, you almost cried out.

"Look at me." the dark god ordered and you obeyed immediately, raising your head to see his red eyes looking up at you as his head lay between your legs.

His lips and chin were shiny, covered with your juices and you felt both drawn to him and repelled by the lecherous gaze he offered you as his pink tongue slithered out of his mouth and dragged along your warmth. 

His fingers started thrusting in an out of you at a faster pace, nearly driving you insane.

__Why did everyone all call him a god?_ A dark spirit. He was a seductive, lecherous dark spirit. _

Without loosing your gaze, he lowered his mouth to bite down on your bud and push his fingers deep into you at the same time.

You screamed, grabbing his head and thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Once, twice.

The third time you shuddered and the painful tension dissolved into a feeling of bliss.

You fell back against the furs with a sigh, your heart beating furiously and your head swimming in the yet unknown waters of blissful pleasure. 

He moaned softly and you hardly noticed his mouth and fingers abandoning your warmth. 

You were still catching your breath when you opened your eyes to find his face right above yours. 

"Your taste is just as sweet as your scent." He stated as he licked his lips in a most licentious way. 

"Are you ready to take your god?"

You glanced up at him. 

You felt elated. You were not thinking straight. And you owed him your life. If you let him take you now, maybe this would -

"Yes." You heard yourself say. 

He pushed against your entrance, the sensation causing you to tense up, bringing back the memories of the sacrifice.

The pain, the fear.

"No. NO."

"Shh." He mouthed kisses down your throat. "You will only make this unpleasant for you if you fight it."

"It hurts." You gasped when he slowly pushed further. 

You brought your hands up to his chest to push him away and he gathered your wrists in one hand, bringing them above your head and holding them down. 

Anger flashed in his eyes.

You struggled to move your hands.

_Tied. Tied down again, just like that night._

_It was the same, it was going to happen all over again._

_You were tied and he was forcing himself on you. He would split you in half and then -_

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes.

He blinked at you, the fire of anger vanishing from his gaze, as his movements stilled.

"Don't do it again. Don't - tie me up like an animal. Don't hurt me again. Please." You whispered. 

It was pitiful to plead with him and you were embarrassed to resort to such indignant measures. But you were frightened.

The god let go of your wrists. 

"Put your hands around my neck."

You did as he asked, feeling him for the first time. The smooth skin. 

"In my hair." He whispered and you let your fingers run through the surprisingly soft strands.

"Kiss me." You pulled his face towards yours, catching his lips with your own, carefully moving your open mouth against his. 

"So - sweet." He breathed into the kiss and with a jerk of his hips, he settled himself inside you.

 

 

*** 

 blót _\- sacrifice or ritual offering_

_Also - apparently people used to "sing" prayers and incantations - I imagine it as in chanting mantras._

_Gangráðr - which, of course, is another name for Odin_

_well, there are several opinions on the meaning of this name, but it can be anything from simply "wanderer" or "the one who gives council" "the one who decides" or "the one who advises the contrary" which is quite befitting too - I like to think of it as "the wanderer who gives council"_

 

langhús - a Viking Longhouse

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, cliffhanger. I couldn't help it.


	5. The morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet smut, a conflicted dark god and a dreadful realisation

You stared up at the wooden ceiling.

The god's head rested on your chest and you combed your fingers through his hair. He purred softly in his sleep.

When he shifted a little, you closed your eyes and the sensation of his skin against yours, the weight of his body, took you back to earlier, when he was sheathed inside you, whispering sweet words into your ear to make you relax so that he could sate himself.

"Feel me." You could hear his voice in your head. Soft, soothing and altogether compelling.

You had whimpered as he rolled his hips, his length stroking your insides, slowly, agonisingly so, and every time he thrust into you and drew back, he forced another desperate noise from your throat. Your fingers were in his hair and his glowing eyes studied your face as he moved inside you. 

Then he leaned forward and brushed a kiss on your forehead, an action that was utterly confusing, coming from this ferocious god. 

"Are you afraid to touch me?" He asked when he searched your eyes.

You bit your lip and shook your head.

"I just - I don't know what I am meant to do."

He frowned slightly and raised an eyebrow, but did not halt his movements. 

"Enjoy yourself. Savour the pleasure I give you. Touch me - the way I touch you."

Your face must have blushed furiously.

_The way he touched you? He was a shameless creature. You could never touch anyone the way he touched you unless you loved them._

You shook your head.

"I wasn't prepared for this being a mere act of pleasure and enjoyment, I was prepared for -"

You broke off and looked away.

_He would surely be furious if you finished what you were about to say._

The god's movements stilled. 

His fingers cupped your cheek and he turned your face towards him. 

"You were prepared for - what?"

"Nothing."

"Lying to me will have consequences."

"You seem to thrive on threats and punishment. Are all gods like you?"

"Do not diverge the conversation, mortal."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. And do not argue with me."

_Gracious goddess._

"What were you _prepared_ for?"

The intense gaze of his red eyes pierced you. 

"Love." You whispered and averted your eyes. "I was prepared for this to be a sacred act of love. An act of mutual respect and reverence. I was prepared to bed a _lover_ , not - "

"A monster?" The god fell in before you could finish the sentence.

Your chest contracted painfully, because it had not actually been what you wanted to say.

He had stilled completey, gaze boring into you. 

"I was going to say that I wasn't prepared to do this with someone I fear." You concluded.

You closed your eyes, waiting for him to unleash his anger, but the outburst never came.

Instead his cool lips brushed against your jawline, a shudder of sweet need cursed through you when the moist tip of his tongue traced the shell of your ear.

"You feel pleasure, do you not?" His asked in a husky voice.

"Y-yes."

"In that case, I would advise you to _pretend_." His teeth grazed over the skin of your throat. "Pretend that this _is_ an act of love and reverence. Pretend that you do not fear me. Pretend I am your lover."

You whimpered as he started moving again. 

_How could you pretend something like that?_

"I will bed you and I expect you to touch me, explore me. I care not if you respect or despise me. I merely want your touch. I want to feel your nails raking over my skin. Your fingers digging into my flesh. Your warm lips on my mouth and body."

His words were like _pors_ \- mellowing your mind. There was magic in his voice, you were certain about this, because his words ignited your body. 

"Pretend that I am your lover if that is what it takes."

You could just try. Explore. It would certainly make it more pleasant for you. 

Your fingers slipped from his hair to roam down his chest. You ran your flat hands over the taut muscles of his sides down to his waist before you let them roam his broad back.

"That's it my sweet lover." His mouth was still close to your ear. "Explore your god."

It was a lie, of course, and yet, the words were like balm for your soul. 

You surprised yourself as you moaned merely from feeling the god's muscles rippling under your hands as he braced himself on his elbows and mouthed kisses down your throat, stirring up more heat in your core when he resumed his movements in slow, leisurely thrusts.

Your hands roamed down to the arch of his back.

_So strong._

The thought made you whimper softly.

You allowed your hands to glide over the smooth skin, further down to explore the curve of his backside and felt his muscles tense and relax in rhythm with his thrusts.

A soft sigh escaped your throat. 

"Do you feel how ready you are for me. How well you are taking me?" His cool breath was like a refreshing breeze against your hot skin.

Now that he mentioned it, you did notice how your womb was less tight and the god moved inside it with more ease. 

You instinctively spread your fingers and squeezed the soft flesh of his buttocks. 

The god let out a loud groan and pushed deeper. 

_Norns. Sweet Goddess._

"Do you want me deeper?"

"Y-yes."

"Open your legs and keep your hands where they are." 

You relaxed and allowed your legs to fall open, then you brought them upwards, your inner thighs brushing along the sides of his body and your heels resting behind his back. 

The last of your resistance dissolved with a moan as the god's firm manhood reached deeper into your warmth.

A low, carnal snarl from the god made you you clutch his backside, pulling him towards you before you reached up with one hand and bring his mouth to your lips. His tongue invaded you with such force that it startled you and his kiss instantly became more gentle when he noticed.

"You are doing well, sweet girl." The encouragement whispered against your lips flooded you with a sweet warmth. 

You took his lower lip into his mouth, running your tongue over it, pulling it with your teeth. 

He groaned. 

Yes, you could pretend he was your lover. 

You tried to remember what your mother had told you - that you would know intuitively what to do when you were in your lovers arms. That you would find those most sensitive places on his body that would make him shudder in delight.

Your lips abandoned his mouth and you experimentally trailed the ridges on his skin with your tongue. Along his jaw. Down his throat.

"Yes." The god uttered, his voice strained. "That is - uh"

Your mouth found his throat and you imitated what he himself had done to you just moments ago - you grazed your teeth over his skin and licked it with your tongue - his breath hitched, his body shuddered and a low growl rumbled through his chest. 

His throat was most certainly one of those sensitive spots and you began to enjoy this. You enjoyed the way he responded to your ministrations. 

The god slid a hand over your backside and underneath your thigh. He raised your leg higher over his hips and thrust into you with more vigor, groaning when you delivered small bites along his throat and licked and sucked the soft right under his chin and right above his larynx.

The noises he made, the quickening of his breath, the movements of his hips, it all made your core tighten and burn with need. Your fingers instinctively dug into his back.

"Deeper." You breathed.

He obeyed your request with an approving groan.

"F-faster." Your breath hitched as you met his thrusts with your hips.

Moaning loudly against his skin you raked your nails down his back and felt him shiver. Then you sunk your teeth into the god's neck and bit down hard.

He snarled and tensed, but you did not let go.

You sucked his skin and bit down harder as the tension inside you shattered and you felt his body stiffen. His hard member pulsed, spilling his essence into your womb.

Both of you stilled. You let go of his neck and instead wrapped your arms around his body and tilted your hips upwards against his. The god let out a sigh before he continued to move in small, slow thrusts until he relaxed and collapsed on top of you. 

It felt good. _He_ felt good.

A moment later he rolled off you and pulled you into his arms.

"You need to eat." He said after a long silence. 

Without another word, he got up, fetched a bowl of soup for you and watched as you ate. When you were finished, he placed the bowl aside and slipped back under the covers. One hand came to a rest on your belly and his face was buried in your hair. He took a deep breath and purred. Within moments his breath became slow and steady and you knew he was asleep. 

So, here you were, staring up at the wooden ceiling of his home, the god's head resting on your chest.

_Maybe you had been wrong about him? Maybe he did care?_

_As frightening as he was, he had tried to save you on the river, hadn't he? When you had thought that he was surely going to kill you._

And he had somehow pulled you out from underneath the ice before your froze to death in the waters. You should have perished out there. He had saved your life.

He cared enough to have made this a pleasurable experience for you.

Even though the pleasure he showed you was at least as frightening as the god himself. 

He had been kind to you. Even fed you.

"Mother." He muttered in his sleep and you brought your attention back to the room. 

_Mother?_

He chuckled softly and hummed, which made you smile. 

_Was he dreaming? Of his mother?_

You wondered what his parents were like. Ferocious, no doubt. But every mother was loving towards her child.

You sighed and twisted a dark strand of hair around your finger. Despite your best efforts your heart started to embrace him. 

The god groaned and rolled over, grabbing you around your waist he pulled you against his chest as he nuzzled your neck and he let out a breath that tickled your skin.

You giggled softly.

Something you hadn't done in a long time, and it filled you with the innocent happiness of a child.

You tried to move to change your position a little, but his arms tightened around you and a low growl vibrated through his chest.

_Right. Not moving, then._

You closed your eyes instead and soon drifted into a peaceful sleep.

The sheets were cold when you woke and you were alone when you awoke in the morning.

Sunlight streamed into the room and you blinked in confusion. The house had large openings in the walls that allowed sunlight to fill it with warmth and light. You slipped out of the bed to take a closer look. Astounded, you ran your fingers over the smooth surface of a transparent kind of crystal that filled the openings and let you to see the forest outside.

You had never seen anything like this.

You glanced around. The house was not built like the cottages or longhouses that were common in this region either. 

_How had he built this in such a short time?_

_Seiðr, of course._

_He was a god. Surely he had magical powers._

_His voice was most certainly filled with s_ _eiðr._

Apart from that, he was much stronger than mortal men, so he might be able to build a house like this in the span of a few days.

Your eyes widened as you took in your surrounding with more care. 

The bed you slept in was not merely made from furs and wool blankets, but it had sheets that looked like silk. A material you recognised, as sit was used to tailor the robes of the High Priestess and as far as you knew, it came from a country in the East and was a very valuable asset. 

You ran your fingers over the smooth fabric for a while, fascinated by its cool softness.

There were other foreign objects and furniture that awakened your curiosity, but then you remembered that the elders were awaiting your return. 

You needed a bath. You rubbed your arms. You were all too aware of the sweat on your skin and the god's seed that had now dried between your thighs.

You really needed a bath.

So you slipped into your clothes and stepped outside. 

"Where are you going?" His voice startled you and you spun around to find him leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Home. I need to take a bath. I also need to return to the village to speak to the elders."

"Of course."

You glanced at him.

All those warm thoughts you had held about the god just moments ago evaporated like a cloud of breath in the cold winter air, when you met his cold gaze and were painfully reminded you of who you were dealing with.

"Will you leave the villagers in peace?" You asked, remembering that he had never given you approval of your request.

"As long as they do not arouse my anger, they have nothing to fear from me."

You nodded. 

He regarded you with what you would have interpreted as in indifference, so you made to turn and take your leave.

"What about you?" He suddenly asked and you frowned. "I am beginning to get used to the idea of having a pet."

Your eyes narrowed.

"I thought I would not bother you again." You offered carefully.

"Why, you are welcome to return to warm my bed tonight.”

"I will _not_." You hissed, feeling your stomach twist. 

_Did he enjoy irritating you? Or was it because he was always angry and discontented that he could not allow others to have peace?_

"I guess, I could always take a maiden from the village. One that is _willing_ and honoured to share the bed of a god."

"Don't you dare!" You took a step towards him and a grin spread on his face.

"Or what, little spitfire? Are you going to hurt your hand again in an attempt to break my nose?"

You would have liked to scream at him. Instead you huffed.

"Are you offering yourself then?" He teased.

"I am neither your pet nor your whore."

"True, you are far too inexperienced for a whore. I could teach you though."

“You think this amusing?” 

"Why else would I save your life, mortal?”

_This was why he saved you? For pleasure?_

Your anger dissolved as suddenly as it had erupted. 

"Last night ..." You began, then broke off. Then you started again. "Last night, you were -"

" _Pretending."_ He cut you off. "So that you would relax and give me pleasure."

You felt the tension drain from your body, being replaced by the all too familiar feeling of despondency. 

_Sure, you should have known._

You searched his gaze for anything that told you he was lying.

_Why did his words stab your heart like a blunt dagger?_

"I am the God of Lies, pet. I _pretend_. I _manipulate_."

Your lips parted a little as you realised that he had merely toyed with you.

_How could you have believed him to be kind? He was treacherous. A God of Deception._

Nausea clutched your stomach in a tight grip.

“You - You are -”

“The spawn of wickedness? A heartless monstrosity who dares to call himself a god?” He hissed, his icy stare chilling you to the bone.

"I - I felt safe with you." You muttered, not even intending to utter it out loud.

“Your mistake.” He snapped.

He might as well have slapped you in the face.

You felt like a complete and utter fool. And you weren't even sure why or when you had began to trust him. But you realised that you had. Sometime between falling into the river and making love to him in his bed of silk, you had started to feel safe with him.

“You are wicked." You bit back a sob and quickly turned away. 

You were not going to cry in front of him.

"To think that for a moment I even regretted taking you to trial."

“You - you what?” His voice had suddenly lost all spite.

Before you knew it he had taken a step forward and roughly grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

“What did you say, mortal?”

_Don't start crying._

“I took you to trial.” Your voice was astoundingly steady. "Before the gods. It was my right as a priestess."

His eyes widened.

"Impossible."

"You should not have accepted an _unwilling_ offering, who happened to be a novice priestess, then."

The look of shock that flickered over his face, filled you with an unfamiliar malicious kind of glee. 

_He hadn't been aware of this._

You closed your heart and put up a front of indifference as the shock vanished from the god's face and his eyes glinted dangerously.

“Are you aware of what you have done, wench? What would possess you to do such a thing?”

“What possessed me?" You spat. "You – _raped_ me - that possessed me. You claim to be a god, yet you have no respect for women.”

“I saved your life you treacherous little beast.” His voice was a low snarl that reminded you more of a wild animal than a man. You closed your eyes.

He was no man. He was Hveðrungr. The angry god.

You whimpered when his grip tightened but then he suddenly let you go.

“You lured me in with your scent. You tempted me with your innocence. You found bliss that night, do not deny it. I saw it in your eyes. Heard it in your voice.” He glared at you. “What is the price I pay for this? If a god is taken to trial, he is bound until the curse is lifted. What is it I need to do?”

You stared at him.

“Forgiveness.” 

“Forgiveness?”

“To be free from the bond requires you to ask my forgiveness.”

As he took a step forward you instinctively retreated. 

His eyes were glowing bright red, and snow flakes appeared out of thin air, whirling around him like sparks. 

"I shall never. _NEVER_. Ask a mortal's forgiveness."

_Right._

“And I shall never come to your – or any other mortal's - aid again." He took a deep breath and calmed down slightly. 

"Who said I would grant you forgiveness anyway?"

He snarled. You took another step back. 

"I have time." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I may be bound, so what? I will spend a few of your Midgardian years in this realm. A mortal's life is but a heartbeat compared to the life span of a god. I shall wait until you perish, mortal. What will it be? 20 maybe 30 of your earthly years? If you are not killed by marauders before that, which I shall welcome all the more, because as soon as you _die_  I will be free to return to Asgard." 

He took a step towards you and you stretched out your hand to stop him.

"If you hurt me, will the bond grow stronger?"

He looked taken aback for a moment. 

"Don't flatter yourself. I was not going to hurt you."

"Stay away." 

You quickly turned around and descended the wooden steps that led into the forest.

"Mortal."

His tone was still angry, but there was also something else that you could not -- _and why would you even care?_

"What?" You halted, but did not turn towards him.

"I mean it. Do not think you will have my protection any longer. Next time you need me, I shall leave you to perish."

"And why would I ever ask a god like you for help? You cannot even protect me from yourself."

You marched off into the forest, ignoring the uneasiness that grew with the distance you put between you and the god's dwelling.

After a few more steps you halted and turned around.

Your mouth dropped open.

The god's house was gone.

In its place sat a large rock, surrounded by trees. 

_Seiðr._

You quickly turned around and headed home.

The first thing you did was stoke the fire so that you could melt some snow and prepare a bath. You filled the wooden bathing tub half way with warm water and heaved a sigh of relief when you were finally able to slip into the water and scrub him off your skin. 

His scent still clung to you and you wished to be free of it.

You lathered the washcloth again and again with soap scrubbed your skin over and over until it was red.

There were of course places you could not reach.

The god had planted his seed deep inside your womb and the thought made your stomach churn and your heart clench.

_"I was beginning to get used to the idea of having a pet. You are welcome to return to warm my bed.”_

He was a heartless creature and you had been foolish enough to believe him to be kind. His heart was as cold as the skin on his body. 

_"I care not if you respect or despise me. I merely want your touch."_

That was all you were to him. A pet. A whore. An object of pleasure. 

_"Pretend that I am your lover if that is what it takes."_

Salty tears dripped into the luke warm water. 

_"That's it my sweet lover."_

He hadn't even lied to you. It was _you_ who had been blinded by your own foolish desire to see something in him that he was not. You had _longed_ for him to be kind and caring. 

To find safety in his strong arms. 

That was why your heart was wrenching. 

He had not lied to you, he had merely destroyed this illusion. 

_Why was the Goddess testing you like this?_

Because you had been raised to be independent and yet you longed for his protection. 

But it was an illusion. Your family was gone and you were alone. There was nobody who would protect you, now. Nobody. 

You splashed water in your face to wash away the tears, before you reached for a dry cloth and stepped out of the bath. 

And you had no need to call on him.

No need at all. 

 

Fun Viking facts, I discovered, for those of you who are interested:

_So, contrary to popular belief, the Vikings were a very clean bunch of people - apparently they took great care in grooming themselves and bathed at least once a week. Some of the items found at excavation sites were tweezers, razors, combs and ear cleaners. They also used a special kind of soap to clean themselves and bleach their hair - apparently._

_They used to bathe in rivers, hot springs and there is speculation that they had special bath houses and sauna huts, as well._

_Vikings changed and laundered their underwear and garments regularly, bathed, combed their hair and beards and - thus had the reputation that they were able to seduce even fair maidens from wealthy families (on their travels around Europe, because the rest of Europe was quite behind when it came to hygiene)._

_Their houses had no windows (which makes sense due to the extreme weather), the main source of light inside was the fire in the centre of the room._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm. I guess, we'll see about that.


	6. Change of seasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!!
> 
> First of all, sorry for no updates recently. I will try to make updates (for all my stories) more regular in the future, but some health problems have caught up with me and don't allow me much time on my pc at the moment. Good health is my first priority right now. :)))  
> So please be patient.
> 
> Thank you all for kudos and your lovely comments!! I appreciate them very much!!
> 
> WARNING: elements of rape in this chapter (and it's not our lovely blue bad boy)

The days grew longer as the sun crept higher into the sky and the snow began to melt. After a long, incredibly dark winter, spring finally arrived.

You spent most of your days in the village, helping out with mundane tasks, when you were not needed to apply your healing knowledge. Since the incident with the god, the villagers had embraced you with even more compassion and more often, you were invited to join a family for a meal.

You had not seen him since then. Over the past moons you attempted to forget the god in the forest, although the fact that your daily walk from and to the village brought you close to his dwelling place, did not make this any easier. Not thinking about him was an easy task as long as you were keeping yourself busy, but it was on those nights when loneliness weighed down your heart or when you jolted from your sleep because dark memories haunted your dreams, it was on those nights that Hveðrungr's face would appear before your mind's eye and it was his arms you would imagine around you, holding you until you fell back asleep.

One of those nights, after you had awoken from your sleep with a cry and settled in front of the fire, you wondered if he too, felt lonely, out there in the forest, alone in this foreign world that was not his home. You remembered how he had muttered the word mother in his sleep. How innocent he had seemed in that moment. How vulnerable.

With a sigh you attempted to remind yourself of his cruelty. His heartlessness.

And yet, on this night you rose to gather a handful birch leaves and thyme from the jars with dried herbs and tossed them into the licking flames. The smoke purified the air and opened the channel to the gods as it rose up.

You sat down, focusing your breath you calmed your mind and brought your attention to the centre of your being. When your awareness rested inside your heart, you called on the Goddess.

Since you moved into Eir's cottage you had taken up the customs of your kin again. You called on the Goddess on the nights of the full and the dark moon and Eir had been right, the Goddess had not forgotten you. She appeared to you in dreams the first night, taking you for a walk in her garden or coming to the cottage to see you. Back in your village, you had received a vision of her three times, now you felt her presence when you called on her, and when you needed advice or had pressing questions, she would sometimes speak to you.

Maybe it was because you had consummated the sacred marriage and were a priestess now, or maybe it was because you were the last of your kin.

You felt the Goddess presence that night, as clear as though she was standing beside you, so you decided to place a request. You asked the Goddes to let Hveðrungr return to his family. His realm.

"He has yet to learn his lesson, child." Her voice wafted through your mind.

"He would rather wait for me to die than ask my forgiveness."

"The magic of the trial is ancient magic. It cannot be undone unless the god fulfils what is necessary for the bond to dissolve."

"But, he won't and I - I don't want him to suffer."

"Suffer?"

"He's in a foreign world, away from his family. I lost my family and live in a place that is not my home. I know what it's like to feel lonely. Even if he's heartless and cold, he must feel lonely too."

Silence followed your words.

"Goddess?"

"Even if he deserved your compassion, I cannot bring him back home, child. If it eases your mind at all, let me assure you that he has everything to make his life comfortable. I hope he will soon recognise his fault and see reason."

You sighed and then your heart was flooded with the warm feeling of love.

"Can you feel this?" The Goddess asked.

You nodded.

"If you truly care that he suffers, than love him, my child."

_Love him?_

"I cannot."

"So proud."

"He hurt me. Humiliated me. He has nothing but lies."

"And yet you asked me to release him from the bond? Is it because you do not wish for him to suffer, or was it merely because you wish for him to disappear from your life?"

You lowered your head and your gaze.

"Maybe - both. He never leaves me. I cannot rid my mind of his presence, so, yes, I wish he would leave. And I do feel pity for him because I do not wish for anyone to suffer this way. But it is one thing to have pity on him and wish for him to return to his home, while it is requires something else entirely to love him."

"And yet, you care for him."

"I do not." Liar. "I wish I wouldn't." You corrected yourself and the goddess laughed softly.

"You chose him. He is your god now. Is it not your duty as his priestess to love him?"

You closed your eyes and shook your head.

_It couldn't be. He couldn't possibly be your god._

But in this moment, you realised that the Goddess was right. You may have been thrust into his arms unwillingly, but you had consummated the sacred union with him - which made him your god. That was why you pined for him in those vulnerable moments, because you had chosen him. And as much as you wanted to deny it, you needed to start taking responsibility for your actions.

You felt a featherlight touch on your head, as though someone patted your hair.

"He suffers more than you know, because in his imprudence, he hurt what he was meant to protect."

"What - what was he meant to protect?"

The Goddess gentle laughter rang through your mind.

"Is it not obvious?"

Her words echoed in your mind, and then she was gone.

You crawled back under the covers of your bed and closed your eyes.

_Love him?_

You curled up into a ball and sighed.

_How could you even revere him as your god?_

He had used you. He had made it quite clear that he did not want to see you anymore. That you had insulted him by taking him to trial.

A tear trickled down your nose.

_But what exactly did she mean that he hurt what he was meant to protect?_

It could not have been you, could it? He was not a Vanic god. As far as you could tell, he was a Jotnar and nobody had invoked those gods for a long time and you knew of no priestess who had consummated the sacred bond with one of them.

You sighed.

_Well, you had. You had chosen him._

***

The forest was dipped in soft light as the last rays of the sun touched the trees and you were on your way back from the village. A few days had passed since the night you spoke to the Goddess and your heart had yet to come to terms with her words.

When you neared your home, an uneasy foreboding made you vigilant, so you slowed down and moved with caution. By now the snow had mostly melted, which meant that your earthy cloak gave you the advantage of keeping you concealed, but the trees had not yet started sprouting leaves, which meant that it would be hard to find cover in case you needed to hide.

The first thing you saw were the horses - four sturdy animals with a thick fur lingering in the shadow of the birch trees. Your gaze swept over them, taking in the laden bags and short swords that were attached to the saddles. The weapons left no doubt about who those riders were.

Marauders.

The door of the cottage was open, one of the men stood close by keeping watch, while the others were apparently inside and judging by the noises that came from your home, they were searching the cottage for valuables. You flinched when you heard the shattering of jars and a wave of anger rolled through you.

Not the potions. I need them.

For a moment you were tempted to burst from your hiding place and run over.

Just for a moment.

You knew well enough what happened to women who fell into the arms of the ruthless warriors who served no one but themselves and you should not be wasting any more time here, but make use of the fact that they were still inside the house to sneak away unseen.

You turned around and just when you thought you were out of sight, two ravens flew up in front of you, croaking loudly as they did. Without thinking, you started to run.

Maybe if you made it back to the village –

The whinny of horses sent a tingle of adrenaline through your veins and you ran faster. Your stomach churned, when you heard the thunder of hooves.

_Goddess, protect me!_

Your only chance was to run. But how far could you really get?

_Hveðrungr's dwelling._

The sound of the hooves was drawing closer. There was no doubt that they had spotted you.

You turned away from the path, deeper into the forest, but you knew it was a hopeless endeavour. The trees were still wide enough to allow horses to ride through and the god's house was still a distance away.

_Goddess._

The god's face appeared before your mind's eye.

"Call on him." Her voice whispered in your mind.

_He is not going to help me, even if I call on him. He said he would never come to my aid again._

"Call on him."

The thunder of the horses grew alarmingly loud.

_I can't. He won't come. He --_

There was a tug as somebody grabbed the back of your cape and for a moment you were airborne, before you were thrown across the horse's back, the saddle digging painfully into your stomach.

Raucous laughter.

"Call on him."

You focused on the god's face, bringing it before your mind's eye.

_Please. Please, help me._

The rider slowed his horse and came to a halt. You glanced up to have a look around, seeking a way to escape. Your heart pounded in your chest and you could feel your senses narrowing. Your instincts taking over your mind.

The man dragged you off the horse as he descended and threw you onto the ground. You immediately scrambled to your feet and tried to take off, but another one of the riders grabbed your cape and pulled you backwards. When you turned around, he slapped you hard across the face, the force of it made you stumble backwards right into the arms of another man, who pushed you forward and you fell onto your hands and knees into a patch of leftover snow.

Momentarily your vision went white. Your ears were ringing and your nose felt oddly numb. Red dots blossomed on the snow beneath you and it took you a moment to understand that it was blood dripping from your nose.

As you stared at the red dots, all you could see was a pair of glowing red eyes.

_Please. You are my god. Help me._

You yelped in pain when you were hauled you up by your hair and you instinctively slammed your elbows backwards into his ribs. The man huffed, but did not loosen his grip, instead he caught your arms and twisted them behind your back. You bit back the pain as you kicked him.

“A little wild cat.” Another said, laughing, and you brought your attention to him as he moved towards you with a lecherous smile on his face.

“NO!” you screamed when he reached out. You pushed against the man holding you, bringing both legs up to drive them into your attacker's chest.

He stumbled backwards.

Your vision blessed white and pain exploded through your head, the blow stunned you and one of them seized the opportunity to grab on of your legs. You struggled, trying to regain your focus, while another man caught your other leg. There fingers were digging painfully into your thighs and knees as they lifted your legs and spread them.

The man you had kicked in the chest stepped into view, eyes glinting dangerously like those of a hungry wolf. His hand reached out and roughly grabbed your hair.

“Wild cat. We will have a lot of fun with you before we kill you.”

“Don't you dare touch me!” You shrieked.

Without a warning he stepped forward and ripped your cape open, then he took hold of your tunic, lifted a dagger and cut through the fabric, exposing your undergarments to him. He made quick work of them by ripping the fabric with his bare hands.

You tried to recoil from his touch when his calloused fingers groped your breasts. Panic washed over you. Fear flooded your body. You struggled against the three man holding you. The man grunted as he lifted his dagger and cut the ties of your pants, dragging them down your hips, impatiently ripping the fabric to give him access to your most sensitive parts. You cried out when he roughly shoved his hand between your legs.

“What a tight little cunt.” He sneered.

“Please.” You whimpered, trying to calm your fear and bring your focus back to the god's face.

“Are you begging for mercy, little whore?”

“Please help me.” You whispered, entirely focused on the blue face with the red glowing eyes.

The man gripped your chin roughly and your eyes widened in terror as you watched him free his already hard manhood from the confines of his pants.

“NO!" You screamed and struggled. "Don't touch me!”

“Now now, you will enjoy it wild cat. I'm sure.”

You hissed and spat at him when he moved between your legs. He wiped his face and laughed. Then he spat in his hand, lubricating his stiff member.

“HELP ME!” You screamed on the top of your lungs. "Hveðrungr!"

You watched the man's eyes widen in shock before his face distorted in a grimace of pain as an icy blade silently sliced through his body, protruding from the centre of his chest. When it was drawn back, the man's body collapsed into the snow.

Then things happened very fast.

The two men holding your legs let you go, in favour of drawing their weapons. Before they could do so, a dagger slit one of the man's throat, while the other what stabbed through the heart with another blade of ice. You felt the air move as something whizzed past your face, there was a thump, and a moment later, the grip on you loosened and the man who held your arms sank to the ground.

As you staggered away a few paces you noticed the hilt of a dagger sticking out from one of his eyes. With a gasp, you collapsed into the snow, trying to gather your clothes and pulling you legs up to your chest. You could hear your pulse racing in your ears and tried to calm your breathing and control your fear.

Then you slowly raised your eyes to the god who stood a few paces away you, glaring at you as if you were the most insidious person on Earth.

You pulled your cloak tighter around you.

“I told you to leave me in peace. Stop calling me. If you do it one more time, I swear, I will let them rape and kill you.” He hissed and the spite in his words struck you like a knife.

His chest was heaving in anger. He summoned his daggers and cleaned them in the snow, before he sheathed them in his belt.

Your eyes filled with tears at his harsh words, nevertheless, he had come to your aid and saved your life - yet again.

The god turned away.

“Thank you.” You whispered. "For saving my life."

He moved so suddenly that you gasped and scrambled backwards. The tall god closed the distance between you with long strides and came to a halt towered over you, his blue skin glistening in the sunlight. Then he bent down and gathered you in his arms.

You squirmed.

"Stop writhing, mortal. I do not intend to harm you."

As he pressed you to his chest a feeling of comfort and safety washed over you, making your body relax before it started shaking uncontrollably, releasing the shock from the attack and resetting your nervous system. The god held you tighter and you did not resist.

He muttered something in a dialect you could not understand, then started walking.

You tensed.

"Where are you taking me?" You whispered.

"To my house."

"No. Please, let me go." You started struggling against his embrace.

"Shh." His voice was soft. "I have no intention to harm you - or bed you for that matter."

_God of Lies._

"You are lying. Let me down." You pushed against his chest and he halted to look down on you.

"By the Norns, woman. You look a terrible mess. Keep still and allow me to take care of you." His tone was stern and his eyes pierced you, albeit not with anger, but something else that made you comply to his request.

You stilled in his arms and he started moving again.

"Why?"

"Just be quiet for now."

"Promise that you will not -"

_Even if he promised you, what good was his word?_

You tilted your head to catch a glimpse of his face, but he kept his gaze straight ahead.

"Would you - would you truly leave me to them next time?"

"They are dead. They cannot harm you anymore."

"That is not what I asked."

He kept silent. After a moment, you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling exhaustion sweeping over you while you became aware of the aches in your body. The throbbing pain in your face and the soreness in your shoulders and arms.

"I would not." He muttered. It was no more than a whisper, but you heard him.

He did not let you go until you had reached his house, where he set you down in front of the fire, while he disappeared into another room.

Your mind was strangely blank so you merely stared into the flames. When the god returned, he picked you up again and you protested.

"I am not a child, I can walk."

He ignored you and carried you to an adjacent room which, to your surprise, was a bath chamber, where he set you down. When he started to pull your clothes over your shoulders, you gripped them tightly and he let go.

"Do it yourself then."

You pulled off your cloak and folded it, then you stepped out of the shreds that had been a tunic and pants and climbed into the large tub. You had never seen one that was made from stone, and the water was warm and fragrant. You could feel your entire body relax, but still moved as far away from the god as possible, and eyed him warily when he started to take off his clothes.

The god slipped into the bath.

"Come here." It was that same soft voice he had used when he had spoken to you on the frozen river.

You shook your head.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"I do not trust you."

"I said that I have no intention to bed you."

"God of Lies."

"Fine, I fully intend to ravish you, before I rip your heart from your chest with my bare hands and eat it raw. Wait, no, maybe I'll roast it over the fire before I devour it."**

His eyes glint with amusement as he spoke.

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't jesting, mortal. Now come here."

You cautiously moved closer to him.

"Turn around." You obeyed hesitantly, because you did not like the idea of turning your back to him and flinched when his arms came around your midriff to pull you closer.

"Dip your head under and wet your hair, it needs a wash."

You spun around and glared at him.

"I can do that myself."

The god frowned.

"Is it truly such a heinous act?"

"Only a husband washes a woman's hair - or a lover the hair of his mistress." You muttered.

"Hm. I shall consider you my mistress, then." The god said softly. "Now wet your hair."

You blushed.

He was being kind again. Using this velvet voice to make you believe things that were not true.

"Don't ..."

_What? Lie to me again? Make me believe you are kind?_

_Break my heart?_

You slowly turned away from him when you realised, you did truly fear him. Not his strength. Or his anger for that matter. You feared his kindness.

His ability to lure you into believing he cared, because that was what you wanted. You wanted him to care.

"Don't ... what?" He asked huskily and let his hands travel up and down your back. You moved away and he gently pulled you back.

"You said you wouldn't -"

"And I will not bed you. That does not mean I will not touch you. Now, allow me to wash your hair, mistress."

You dipped your head back, submerging your hair in the water. When you felt his finger run though it you pulled your head back up with a gasp, immediately regretting the fast movement as pain shot right through you.

Then pain stunned you and you stilled, in an attempt to ease it, then his large hands were in your hair, cool fingertips massaging your scalp, easing the throbbing ache inside your head. His hands moved down your neck and shoulders and you felt warmth spreading from his fingers, sinking into your skin, into your muscles, taking away the soreness.

"Why?" You asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you being kind? Is it so that you can humiliate me? Are you trying to deceive me again?"

"Deceive you? Was it not you, who subjected me to bondage by taking me to trial? Who is the traitor here, flower?"

"It was my right."

"As it was my right to accept my offering."

"You do not respect women."

"Rinse." He ordered and you carefully dipped your head back, the pain was almost gone now. You felt the god's fingers combing through your hair under the water, washing out the suds.

"Will you believe me if I told you that I have never before taken a woman without her consent?"

"Why would I?

"You are the only one, who ever defied me." He ran his fingers through your wet hair. "You resisted me and you bewitched me."

"And how would I accomplish that?"

He pulled you back against his chest and dipped a soft cloth in the bathwater before he carefully brought it to your face to wipe your chin, then your lips and you realised he was cleaning the blood off your face.

"Does it still hurt?"

"What?"

"Your nose. I healed most of it, I can also heal the bruising."

"No. I do not need any more of your pity or false kindness."

He sighed.

"I guess, it is fortunate you hate me so."

_What was that supposed to mean?_

"Why would you consider that fortunate?"

"Because if you would not hate me, you would likely tempt me to take you to bed again, which would strengthen that cursed bond. I would have never bedded you had I known about the trial."

"Why?"

"Because every time you accept me willingly, the bond of the magic strengthens."

"That - that does not make sense."

"Oh, it does, because the goal of the magic is to make us grow closer. How would I ever ask your forgiveness otherwise - which of course will never happen. Neither will I bed you again. I will find another way of dissolving the spell."

"Why did you bring me here then?"

"Because you called on me."

"You could have left me there."

"I suppose so."

"then why didn't you--

The cloth slipped from your chin, to your throat and down your body and you immediately recoiled, which only led you to press your body against the god's chest. He in turn tightened his hold on you.

"There are rules. I do not have much choice when it comes to protecting you." His voice was laced with a low growl, you could tell, he did not like this. "I have to comply when you call me."

"So why did you say you would never come to my aid again."

"I hoped it would deter you from calling on me."

You shook your head.

"I don't understand you."

"There is no need to understand me, mortal. For now you will stay here, with me. Because every time I come to your aid, will also strengthen the bond. So we will try to avoid any of those situations, until I have found a way to disable the spell."

"I am most certainly _not_ going to stay here, I am a healer and apart from that I have to go and clean up my cottage."

"You will. Stay here."

"You cannot tell me what to do -"

"Oh, but I do." He whispered.

And it was the last thing you heard before you felt a drowsy sleepiness settle over you, your eyelids drooped as you sank back against the god's chest.

 

 

** there is a myth in which Loki devours a roasted heart, so I though it's fun sneaking this in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naughty blue god with the magic popsicle ... let's see how long he can stick to his resolution of not bedding her.


	7. Frost in spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! Hope you are all having a lovely summer :) 
> 
> Reader and Loki are having a bit of a rough time living together, but I'm sure they'll work it out. 
> 
> Have fun and enjoy!!

The smell of food and the warmth of the sun on your skin aroused you from sleep. You blinked, confused for a moment about where you were. 

"It is about time, mortal." A deep, velvet voice rudely reminded you of your current circumstances.

_Gracious goddess, did he have to be like this first thing in the morning?_

You groaned and buried your face deeper in the pillow, which was incredibly soft and silky. 

"Your race needs a frightening amount of sleep, are you never concerned about wasting so much of the little time you are given in a state of unconscious delirium?"

"A good morning to you too, petulant god of incessant ire." You muttered into the pillow and grunted, before you rolled over to glance up at him. The god was standing next to the bed, fully dressed in leather pants and tunic, his daggers sheathed and attached to his thighs. His face held the familiar expression of cold indifference as he looked down on you.

Maybe, one day, you would get used to those glowing red orbs that regarded you with habitual disdain. 

"There is food for you on the table. I am heading out to hunt, so make yourself useful while I am gone."

He was about to turn around when you reached out to grab his hand. The god stiffened and halted, merely turning his head to glance down to where your hands, then back to you.  A soft growl of disapproval rumbled through his chest, but you did not let go.

"I'm going to go back to the cottage, I need to assess the damage they have done."

When his gaze shifted to meet your eyes, you let go of his hand.

"You are staying here." You opened your mouth to protest, but the god was quicker, "You have no choice in this, mortal - and, frankly, I could do with a servant. Since you brought it upon yourself, do not even think of complaining."

"A _servant_?!"

Suddenly wide awake, you jolted upright, your hands clenching into fists and the god swooped down to grip your chin, his red eyes glinting dangerously.

"Do not test my patience, mortal."

"I am _not_ your servant." You hissed at him.

"Your pride rivals even mine, pet. Consider yourself fortunate that you are able to serve a _god_."

You opened your mouth, then closed it.

Ironically, for once, he was right. You were a priestess, destined to serve either the Goddess or the god you chose to bond with - and you - had chosen _him_. 

You bit your lip.

This was not the kind of 'service' you had considered.

"You cannot force me." Was what you managed to mutter through clenched teeth.

"Oh, darling, you have no idea." He huffed, before he let go of your chin and his eyes wandered down your body. "Even if you found a way to leave _without_ my permission, I imagine you would not get far in your current _attire_."

You were naked of course, so you pulled the sheets up higher and glared at him. A dark eyebrow rose to challenge you for a reply, when you stayed quiet, one corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a triumphant smile. He drew back and left without another word. The door fell shut and you could hear him bolt it from the outside.

_What in the name of the Norns?_

_He locked you in?_

You jumped out of the bed and rushed over to the door, pushing against it, rattling at it, pulling and pushing. It was locked. There was no way you would leave through this door.

You swallowed down a feeling of dread that started to rise in your throat and you clenched your hands to keep them from shaking. 

_Trapped._

Breathe.

_A servant this time, not a slave._

Keep breathing. 

You swallowed the panic that tightened your throat, threatening to lunge at you with its deadly grip.

This is not the same. You told yourself. He will not hurt you.

No. You had lived through worse. You wouldn't cower. 

You would find a way out of here.

You started to explore the place, first of all, you needed something to wear. Your own clothes were gone, but there was a wardrobe and a trunk in a corner of the room so your hopes rose. When you tried to open it you found it looked. The doors seemed to be sealed shut.

_Irritable god._

You were certain he had done it on purpose, like he had hidden your torn clothes and your cape. But you were not going to give up this easily. You could always wrap yourself in the sheets of his bed if needed, or simply go to your cottage the way you were. Being naked would not deter you, now that the outside temperature had risen significantly spring. It would be cold, but you would not freeze to death. 

The house was fairly large for being inhabited by only one person. One large room with a bed, a fire place and a hearth, a table and a large comfortable looking chair. And then there was the adjacent bath chamber, which tempted you for a moment as you looked around for an escape route. The tub was filled with steaming, pleasantly warm water that had a subtle sweet fragrance. You decided not to indulge, even though it was hard since you missed your bathing routine. You had not bathed properly and as often as you were used to since they had taken you away from your home.

After a thorough examination of the place, you concluded that the only exits were the door and the opening in the roof that allowed the smoke to escape from the house and it was far too high for you to reach. 

Your stomach growled loudly, reminding you that you had not eaten since yesterday's midday meal and you had to admit to yourself that the bowl of stew and the plate of dried fruit that sat on the table looked and smelled rather tempting. You hesitantly tried the fruit. It tasted like honey and was unknown to you, but seemed to energise your limbs and calm your mind. It turned out to be a tasty and very satisfying meal. After you had eaten, you were able to think more clearly and grew firm in your conviction that, under no circumstances, would you stay here, as Hveðrungr's prisoner or servant or - _pet_.

He would let you go. He would _have_ to let you go.

You would find a way to _make_ him.

The god may be stubborn, haughty and easily angered, but you were sure you could turn this to your advantage, if you found a way to irritate him so much that he would want to rid himself of your presence. You took a look around. There were all sorts of odd objects that you had never seen before, but as intriguing as it was, you needed to think and come up with ways of dissuading the god from keeping you here. The first, and most obvious one was simple _disobedience_. 

"Have you been merely sitting while I was out hunting?" A gust of cool air blew inside as the door opened and fell shut behind him. You did not even turn your head to glance at him, but kept looking out the transparent wall that offered a view of the forest. 

"No." You replied boldly. "I ate. Then I took a nap. After that I gazed outside for a while. Then I took another nap. And only _then_ I sat down here, awaiting your return."

The god growled softly, evidently not amused, and you felt a shiver of pleasure creeping over your skin. Annoyed about your body's reaction to noise he made, you turned away from him. 

"If you stay here, you may as well do some work." He walked over to the table and dumped some vegetables and salmon on it. 

"And why should I? It was not my choice to stay here. You cannot force me into servitude." You replied, not holding back the annoyance in your tone. 

"Are you challenging me, little spitfire?" He stepped up next to the bed, and you felt the intensity of the power that radiated off him. Much to your surprise, the anger had vanished from his voice. You looked up and held the gaze of his blazing eyes. 

"If you harm me, will it affect the bond?" You could already guess the answer. 

"Sly creature." He scoffed. "Yes, it will strengthen it."

_So, this was the reason he had not harmed you. Yet._

He could neither harm you, nor bed you, and then there was the problem of you calling on him too. It all strengthened the bond. 

"There is no way for you to escape this bond, is there?" You asked, this time with genuine interest.

"There is always a way, I merely have to find it." He pulled a knife out of a compartment under the table and began chopping the vegetables. "Help me cook, that is the least you can do."

You offered him a pretend yawn and snuggled back against the pillows, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. "I am suddenly feeling very tired. Apart from that, I have nothing to wear. I would only catch a cold."

He glared at you with those ruby eyes.

"Your presence is a curse, woman."

"Maybe you should relief yourself of my presence, then."

His movements halted and he pointed the knife at you, a small smile on his lips.

"So, this is what you are aiming for? To make me tired of your presence? Let me tell you then, that I have had to deal with the princesses of Alfheim, so I am certain I will be able to manage my mortal pet. Even if she is misbehaving."

"I am _not_ your pet."

" _Pet_." He pronounced the word slowly and teasingly, and a smirk flitted across his features as he walked over to the hearth and put the cut vegetables into a pot. You groaned in frustration.

"I do not see why you think it inappropriate to be called my pet." he continued, while he added herbs and spices to the meal. "I keep you in my house, I feed you, I take care of you, but other than that you are pretty much useless. You could have been my servant, but you clearly _chose_ to be my _pet_."

He grinned now, and you fumed.

_Love him, the Goddess had said. Love him? Love this spawn of wickedness?_

"I have a name." You pushed your chin a little higher as you spoke.

"I am certain you do, _pet_." The god countered, adding more herbs to the pot.

You told him your name and his grin grew wider.

"A lovely one too, _pet_."

You clenched your teeth and he chuckled. Although it was not one of those malicious, dark chuckles you had heard from him before, but a light-hearted one that made you frown and quickly turn away so that he would not catch the look of confusion on your face.

 _Could it be that he was actually teasing you in an affectionate way?_  

You felt the heat creep up your neck and the thought of him being affectionate, even in an infuriating way, softened you.

"Do  _you_ have a name?" You asked cautiously. When he did not answer you looked over and watched as he stirred the pot. 

"I do not think it appropriate for a pet to call its master by his name." He quipped.

The blood drained from your face and you felt your throat tighten, your hands fisting the sheets. He halted his movements and looked up from his task, a slight frown on his face. 

"What is wrong?" 

"Please. Never ask me to call you that." You replied with a choked voice and turned away from him.

There was a moment of silence, until he realised why you were suddenly withdrawn.

"Is that what you called him? _Master_?"

You shut your eyes.

"I do not wish to speak about him. Ever."

He wordlessly obliged and when you looked up he had turned his focus back to the cooking.

You tried to push it away. It was the past. 

But what good was your present situation?

You were merely the prisoner of somebody else.

"Loki." He suddenly said. "My name is Loki."

"Let me go, Loki." You whispered.

"I cannot." He replied and you turned away from him and buried your face in the pillow. 

It was a quiet lunch. You ate in silence. The god did not eat much himself, but picked up one of the strange items that the shelves of his house were filled with and settled on the large chair in front of the fire. You could not help but watch him, your curiosity getting the better of you. The thing in his hands looked like a box, but when he opened it, your eyes widened. It was filled with thin sheets of what looked like paper and each was covered in _runes_. Once you realised that he was _reading_ , it was hard to keep your curiosity under control, so you rose from your seat and walked over to him.

"What - is _this_?" You pointed at the item in his hand and for a moment he did not seem to understand, then one of his eyebrows arched.

"Of course, you have never seen a book before, have you?"

"A _book_?"

"A collection of writings. A source of information. This one is about ancient magical spells."

He turned it towards you so that you could see it better. Astounded you let your fingers slide over the runes that covered the thin piece of paper. 

"This is paper, yes? I have only seen it once, a trader from the East brought it with him. It came from very far away over the mountains and even further." 

"Yes, the pages are made of paper." He flipped through them to show you, then he suddenly asked. "Can you read?"

You pulled your hand back and shook your head.

"Only single runes and basic magical spells for protection and healing - rituals for - for the Goddess. We have no use for runes as a means of transferring information, since we pass things on vocally. Incantations and stories. And these runes look different to the ones I know."

You reached out again and touched the object, which he called a book, carefully turning a sheet of paper over.

"Incredible. So many sheets. That is a lot of information." You spotted a couple of runes you knew and traced them with your finger. "Berkano. The rune of the Goddess. Othala and Laguz. Kenaz."

You suddenly realised you were getting carried away and your eyes snapped up to meet the god's ruby ones, carefully gauging his reaction to your curiosity. To your surprise, he was neither sneering at you for your ignorance, nor did he look as though he would make a hurtful remark at all. He regarded you with what you would have called interest. Maybe even curiosity. 

"These runes are different because this is the full alphabet we use in Ásgarðr." He explained as he watched you. "You only use a fraction of the runes here on Miðgarðr."

"Ásgarðr?"

"The home of the gods."

"That is were you come from?"

He nodded. 

"I thought you were Jotnar."

"I am, but I was raised in Ásgarðr."

"Ásgarðr. It must be the place of the gods who wage war."

"A realm of warriors, yes."

"A realm of merciless gods who inspire men to do unspeakable things." You huffed.

"Now, now. Do not blame your gods for the cruelty of your own race."

"They are _not_ _my_ gods."

"Where is that goddess of yours then, who you speak of with such devotion? Where was she when you were enslaved and tormented by your own people? Is she not just as heartless?"

"Do not dare to insult Her!" You hissed and narrowed your eyes, glaring at him. 

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your fierceness is terrifying, pet."

There was a smug smile on his face, when he reached out and before you could react, he pulled you sideways onto his lap, his cool hand coming to a rest on the small of your back and your heart skipped a beat when he pulled you closer.

"You are undeniably attractive when you are angered."

His nose ran along the skin of your neck inhaling your scent.

You could not move.

Or, rather, you did not _want_ to move.

Instead you sighed softly in protest, it was a weak attempt to remind yourself that you should fear his touch. Fear the lies that came with it. The lie of tenderness and the lie of kindness. But, as unreasonable as it was, you had to admit to yourself that you missed his touch. Well, maybe it was not quite as unreasonable as you thought, since you were bound to each other by ancient magic in more ways than one. 

"No objections to my touch?" He whispered against your skin. "Must I fear that my pet has contracted an illness?" 

When you did not answer, his lips pressed a kiss on a sensitive spot underneath your ear, sucking your skin tenderly, while his free hand moved up the front of your body to come to a rest between your breasts. 

"You heart is racing, your skin is burning - do you - have a fever maybe?" He teased, clearly amused about your sudden docility, because you could feel his lips widen into a smile against your skin.

Apparently he was not always filled with ire, but had a rather mischievous streak. You had to get used to this new side of your god.

"Your tongue is insufferable." You said softly.

"Most women I pleasure would beg to differ." He purred.

"I am not most women."

"True. You, little spitfire, are my _pet_." He breathed the words against your skin and even if you had wanted to be angry with him, you found yourself unable to. His touch, his voice - his mere closeness made you forget that you should have at least been annoyed by his audacity.

"You want my touch, why do you resist it?" He let his hand roam downwards, cool fingers ghosting over the skin of your stomach before they brushed along your thigh to your knee, when you shivered, he chuckled softly. Then his hand moved back up the inside of your thigh.

"I - I do not -" You stammered, but were completely lost for words.

"Relax for me, flower." The god whispered and the soothing velvet of his voice made you open your legs to allow him access to your warmth. He hummed. 

_He is bewitching you again._

"What about the curse?" You whispered.

"Strengthens our connection through physical intercourse - not mere touch."

He leaned back to catch your gaze and those red eyes seemed to glow more brightly, when his fingers dipped into you and your lips parted in a moan.

"So warm." He studied your face as he pushed deeper. "So - tight." 

You gasped, but did not resist. Instead you started moving your hips, rolling them in rhythm with his fingers. You leaned into him and brought your arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of pleasure unfold between your legs and spread throughout your body. He took his time, as if he was savouring every small move of yours. Every little whimper.

"Why deny yourself the pleasure of my touch?" 

It was not fair. He held you enchanted with those fingers of him, and his deep velvet voice was dripping with magic. 

"Look at me, flower."

You searched his eyes. Your god. 

A mewl left your lips you tried to close your eyes. So close. You were so close.

"Not yet", the god chided, those crimson eyes uncharacteristically soft as they regarded you. His cool fingers should have relieved the heat that rose inside you, and yet they only seemed to make it worse. His thumb found the small knob of pleasure and started rubbing over it in circles. You could not hold back anymore. Your lips parted and your head fell back as you dug your fingers into the fabric of his tunic gripping it tightly. The last thing you remembered was groaning his name and then you lost yourself.

When the pleasure faded away you became aware that you had collapsed against him and despite of the god's otherwise calm appearance, you could feel his heart beating rapidly inside his chest. Your hand came to a rest right on top of it, feeling the organ pound against his ribcage under your fingers. 

"That expression in your eyes." His voice was a mere whisper, warm breath fluttering against your skin. "The way you look at me when you reach your peak, so - surrendered. How could you ever deny that you are mine?"

He wrapped you in his arms, pressing his face to the soft skin of your neck. 

"You cursed me, woman." He muttered, then he let you go and rose abruptly, making you slide off his lap and land ungracefully on the floor. You blinked, still attempting to gather yourself and utterly confused by his sudden change of mood.

The sound of the front door slamming, made you flinch.

_What in the Goddess' name just happened?_

The god did not return for the remainder of the day. You heated some of the midday meal for dinner and ate, before you slipped under the silken sheets. The pillow smelled like him, the sheets did as well, and to your dismay you found his scent soothed you. It was pleasant. More than pleasant. But he did not come to share his bed with you that night and it left you feeling oddly empty.

You woke sometime during the early hours of the morning and discovered him reading in the chair by the fire, you watched him for a while before you fell back asleep. 

The next morning, Loki was gone. There was food on the table and a neatly folded tunic was placed on the edge of the bed for you. You took a long bath, brushed and braided your hair and covered yourself in the god's tunic. The fabric was soft and even though it was far too big for your size, it was quite likely the most comfortable piece of clothing you had ever worn. You rolled up the sleeves and looked at yourself. It was too wide and almost as long as a dress, but it felt good to be dressed.

Sometime later in the morning the god returned. When you greeted him, he muttered a reply but did not look at you or speak to you otherwise. Only pulled out another book and started reading. A while later he added it to the growing pile on the table to study another one. When it was time for the midday meal, you decided to cook, in the hope that he would drop some spiteful remark at least. But he did not. 

He merely hummed when you told him the food was ready and placed a bowl for him on the table, which he accepted without looking at you. The rest of the afternoon was spent in much the same way. The god studied his books, while you cleaned the dishes and then lay back down, staring out the window. 

You did not like this new behaviour of your god. No matter how much he had angered you or scared you or seduced you in the past, this indifference was worse and more humiliating than anything he had done before. 

When the evening came around you were thoroughly tired of it.

Since he had provided you with clothing and made no attempt to touch you or speak to you, he was evidently avoiding you, because he avoided your closeness.

Maybe he even avoided you so that he would not want to bed you? Could you truly be this irresistible to him?

Of course. You were his priestess.

Even though he thought that your mutual attraction was due to the trial, you had the distinct feeling that the magic of the Sacred Bond was growing stronger, the more time you spent with him. 

Well, maybe you could use this to your advantage. 

There he was, entirely unsuspecting, as he sat in his chair by the fire. You had the feeling it would be a splendid opportunity to apply your charms and try out a new tactic. If he did not want to bed you and you tried to seduce him, he would have no choice but to let you go.

You stepped up behind him, running your fingers through his soft hair, gently massaging his scalp. He tensed.

"What are you doing?"

"I am serving my god." You replied cockily, lightly scraping your nails over his skin, making him groan softly. You twirled a dark lock around your finger, while intentionally brushing your other hand over the skin of his neck. You knew he was sensitive there.

He caught your wrist.

"If you intend to seduce me and make me take you right here, on the floor, go ahead, pet."

Your breath hitched in your throat, not because of the clearly delivered threat - well, actually, precisely because of the clearly delivered threat. Your body responded with a shiver of pleasure. 

_Dear goddess, this god had thoroughly defiled you._

While you had thought it a good idea to try and tease him until he would let you go, you also realised that this could seriously backfire on you, because it invoked a need in you. A need for _him_.

Cursed bond.

"You wouldn't." You merely said, trying to keep your voice steady and ran your other hand down his throat, tracing the raised lines of the patterns on his skin. 

"Try me." He breathed, and even though you could not see his face, you knew by the tone of his strained voice that his eyes had closed in pleasure. 

So, you leaned forward and touched your lips to his skin, running your tongue along the ridges on his skin.

Loki held his breath and his hold on your wrist tightened.

"I know what you are attempting to achieve, mortal. But let me tell you that my patience is wearing thin. I granted you the freedom to move around in my home, while I could have tied you up and sealed that treacherous mouth of yours. If you attempt to seduce me any further, I shall gladly do so."

By now you could distinguish a real threat from a mock one. He was serious about tying you up, and he knew that you feared this. 

You pulled away and rested your forehead on his shoulder, heaving a shuddering breath.

"You do not want me around you. Why not just let me go?"

He let go of your wrist and focused his attention back on his book without replying. The rest of the evening, he decided to ignore you and you rolled up in his bed, feeling empty and utterly lonely, even though there was a god right there, a few feet away. He was cruel. And heartless. 

A few hours later you jolted upright with a scream. Your skin covered in sweat, breath coming in short gasps and your heart pounding wildly. 

When two strong hands gripped your shoulders, you lashed out, shrieking and blindly belabouring your attacker with your fists. 

"Nightmare." A voice broke through your mind. "It is merely a nightmare." You struggled fiercely as you were pressed against a hard chest and caged in the iron grip of a man's arms.

"No!" You struggled to free yourself. "Don't touch me! Let me go! Let me go!"

"Shh. It was a nightmare. A dream - nothing more. A bad dream." This voice. You ceased your struggling, growing limp in his arms. You knew that voice. "It is alright. You are safe." 

_Safe._

Your hands gripped the fabric of his tunic as you slumped against him. 

_Loki._

"Just a nightmare." The soft, caring tone of his voice broke the tension and when one of his hands came up to pet your hair, you broke, sobbing pitifully into his chest while he held you.

You had not allowed yourself to cry like this in anyone's presence, but once the dam broke, there was an abundant supply of tears. You were not sure how long it took for you to calm down, but when you finally stopped, the god released you from his hold.

"You are safe here. Now go back to sleep." He said softly and moved to rise from the bed when you darted forward and grabbed his arm to hold him back. 

"Stay." You whispered. 

 "If this is another attempt to lure me into bedding you, I swear by the Allfather, I will tie you up." The threat was half-hearted, you could tell by the tone of his voice, but you could also tell that he was wary of you. It almost made you snigger. The god was wary of _you,_ a mere mortal. 

You shook your head in answer to his words and he sat back down on the bed, his eyes glowing softly in the dimly lit room. 

"I will stay until you are asleep." He murmured as he reclined on top of the covers. You did not hesitate, but moved closer to him, nestling against him like a child. His cool body felt good. His presence soothing.

You feared that you would never understand this god's temper, that could swing from caring to indifferent in the blink of a moment.

Just before you drifted off to sleep you felt the weight of an arm on your waist, wrapping around you in a gentle embrace.

You woke in the morning, with your face pressed into Loki's chest and his arms holding you in a tight embrace.

You felt safe. Absolutely safe.

It had been a long time since you had felt safe. 

"We will go to the cottage together to retrieve whatever you require for your work in the village. There is enough space here to store potions and herbs, so there will be no need for you to return to the cottage by yourself." His voice was rough from sleep as he spoke.

_How did he even know you were awake?_

"I -" You started, but you where interrupted by him.

"You will go to the village to do your duties, then return straight here. This is the only option I am giving you, so I advise you not to waste it."

"I was going to say that I would be happy to do that." You murmured into his chest. 

"It is settled then. We will go to Eir's cottage when I am back." He released you from his embrace and rose without another word or glance in your direction. Then he was gone, his scent lingering. You had no idea what had changed his mind, but you were relieved that he had come to his senses.

And something inside you was relieved that you were going to stay with him from now on.

He may have the terrifying temper of a raging thunderstorm paired with the comfort of a warm fire place, but he was your god.

You had chosen him. You would learn to live with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw... Ok, don't worry, Jotunn-Loki hasn't gone all soft yet. He's Jotunn after all ...


	8. A breath of fresh air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger appears and beauty unveils itself in unexpected ways

It had only been two days since you had last been in the village, but when you stepped out of the forest and walked towards the longhouses of the small settlement that you now called “your” village, your heart expanded with a comforting warmth.

Someone called out your name and you spotted a figure rushing towards you, waving her arm in greeting. It was Gunnhild.

“We were worried about you, laeknir.” She pulled you into a warm embrace and hugged you tightly, before she took a good look at you. “When the god brought the horses with dead riders, we feared the worst, so we sent a few men into the forest to look for you, but Hveðrungr kept them from reaching the cottage and they had to turn back. The elders were certain that the god was trying to protect you by keeping the men away, but we weren't sure if you had been harmed or injured, so I'm happy to see you well.”

Her eyes glinted with tears as she cupped your face with both hands, which made your own eyes well up, so you quickly wrapped your arms around her.

_She cared. They cared. They cared about you._

“Thank you.” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“Thank the gods you are safe and well.”

You pulled away from the embrace.

“Lo – uh, Hveðrungr came to the village?”

Gunnhild nodded.

“He brought the horses with the bodies of four sturdy warriors and he didn't look pleased.” Her eyes widened a little. “I saw him. His eyes were glowing like coals. He truly is terrifying to look at, but -” a small smile appeared on her lips. “terrifying in a beautiful way. Like a blizzard, or the raging waters of the river. One does well to fear him, but if one has this god's protection they should consider themselves fortunate. He is powerful and beautiful at the same time.”

You bit your lip.

He was. Powerful and beautiful at the same time. For you it was his beauty that terrified you more than his power though, because it had captured your heart.

"He protected me." You said and Gunnhild nodded, then she took your hand.

“Come. Let's go and see the others.”

Most of the men were out in the fields, while the women and children tended to the tasks in the village. Spring was the time to prepare everything for summer. It was a time of sowing and raising seedlings, tending to the baby animals and cleaning out the dark energies of winter.

You were welcomed with laughter and tears and your heart warmed by the love you received.

Gunnhild asked you to look after her small daughter, who had been coughing for a few days but showed no other signs of sickness and when you approached their longhouse, the girl was sitting on the grass, accompanied by a tall, dark-haired stranger, who was crouched down beside her.

Seeing him from afar, you had to do a double-take, startled for a moment as the shoulder length raven hair and the broad shoulders reminded you far too much of your dark god. When you came closer though, he briefly raised his head and looked in your direction and your heart did a little skip. His features, the dark hair, pale skin and light coloured eyes – they reminded you of your home. People in the the South-Western Fjords were often fair skinned, with dark hair and light eyes.

“Who is he?” You whispered even though you were still out of ear shot.

“A friend of Eir.”

“He is from the Fjordlands? His hair is dark.”

“His hair is not the only unusual thing about him, child, and I believe he comes from farther away than the Fjords.”

“What do you mean?”

Right then, Gunnhild's little girl looked up and squealed your name and the man turned around, his eyes meeting yours and a shiver of recognition ran through you.

_Loki._

You blinked, confused.

“His name is Loptr.” Gunnhild said as you came closer.

“Loptr?”

“Because he's a traveler and upredictable, like the wind. He has the habit to appear and disappear at his sweet will. Quite often stirring up trouble when he blows in and he's mischievous and cheeky, like the wind, that's why the children love him.”

_Well, this description did not sound like Loki, at all._

“Heil.” Loptr offered, a soft smile lingering on his lips, as he rose to his feet.

“Heill.” you replied in greeting. “I did not mean to disturb.”

He stood a head taller than you, not quite as tall as your god, and his eyes were the colour of glacier water.

“You aren't.”

“Loptr was making a flower crown with me.” Aldís, Gunnhild's little girl, held up a wreath of flowers to show you.

You eyes wandered from the flowers in the girl's hand to the man, then back to her and you crouched down to have a look at it.

“It is beautiful. And they're all your favourite flowers, aren't they?”

The girl nodded.

“Loptr picked them for me.” She grinned and glanced up to the man. 

When you met his eyes again, you noticed the pink shimmer that appeared on his cheeks and the way he cast his eyes downwards and looked over to Gunnhild made you smile.

_An embarrassed man? Not a common sight._

“Come to see me, if you need anything. I am with the goats.” Gunnhild said before she walked away and left the three of you alone.

"Are you the vǫlva?” The man asked and you rose to your feet, shaking your head.

“Laeknir. I'm merely a healer, I do not know the craft of _seiðr."_

“The villagers speak very highly of you and your skills.” He turned to Aldís and ruffled her hair which made her giggle, then he held out his hand to help her up, instead the little girl stretched out her arms. Loptr grinned, before he lowered himself to gather her up.

“I shouldn't spoil you like this, Krúttið mitt.” He chuckled softly and you watched as the little girl snuggled up against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Aldís was usually a shy and timid child.

Loptr truly was tall, almost the same height as your dark god, which meant he was taller than most men. And the way he held himself – so graceful, so similar to Loki. You shook your head. Why were you comparing him to your god?

Because even with the flawless, pale skin that stretched over his finely cut face with those high cheekbones and the light eyes, he reminded you of him. And it was not merely his looks. There was something else about him. His features were more refined than those of ordinary people and his skin wasn't weather-beaten. The only ordinary thing about him were his clothes. Under a heavy green cape, he wore a simple tunic, dark pants and worn leather boots.

You felt a shiver run down your spine when Loptr's eyes met yours. They were not as warm as the glowing coals you were used to, but there was an intensity in those glacier pools that sparked a familiar feeling of warmth inside you and you felt your cheeks grow hot. You quickly averted your gaze.

“I possess some healing skills myself", he said, probably still looking at you, but you did not have the courage to do the same. "I would be pleased to expand my knowledge. Would you mind if I joined you, while you are doing your duties?”

_Have him around you while you were in the village? You liked that idea. More than you should have._

“Not at all. I would be glad to acquire new knowledge myself. Maybe you could teach me what you know?”

“A fair trade.” He offered.

“Are you a trader or a healer?” You smiled, this time meeting his gaze again. The intensity was gone and all you found was light eyes that twinkled with curiosity.

“A bit of both.”

“You remind of my kin.” You blurted out without thinking and one of his eyebrows rose slightly. “I was born in the South-Western Fjords, many of our clan were dark-haired and had light-coloured eyes.”

His eyes seemed to widen a little, but his face settled into an unreadable expression.

“You are – of the kin of the sacred rock?”

You nodded and felt your lips spread into a smile.

“Yes.  _Hyvlatonnå._ So, do you come from there too?”

He looked taken aback, his expression suddenly guarded.

“I often visited the rock with my mother, when I was still – when I was younger.”

“Then you must have come to seek the blessings of the Goddess.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes glued on you as though he remembered something he had long forgotten. Then he cleared his throat.

“You – you grew up there?”

“I'm a novice priestess. My mother was the High-priestess of the rock. I should have ...” You broke off and paused. “I should have taken my vow this month.”

“Your – _vow_?”

“Nevermind.” Thinking of your family brought a heaviness to your chest that you were not ready to face.

"Your mother was a  _seiðkona_ of the Sacred Rock? The veil between the worlds?"

You blinked. 

"Yes. But nobody really calls it this anymore. The veil between the worlds."

"Do you know her mother, Loptr?" Aldís asked innocently and Loptr chuckled.

"I may. But I am sure my mother does, so I will have to ask her next time I am home."

 

The girl smiled at him and he pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but he interrupted you.

“I believe Gunnhild wanted you to have a look at her?" He was evidently diverging the conversation and you were happy to. 

You spent the afternoon looking after the children and discussing herbs and potions with Loptr, feeling oddly comforted by his presence. You ascribed it to the fact that he reminded you both of your family and your god. the more time you spent with him, the more you realised that he was nothing like your wrathful Hveðrungr. Just as Gunnhild had said, Loptr was light-hearted and always seemed to find ways or words to make you laugh. It was something that soothed your heart more than anything else. You had not laughed in far too long.

When it was time to return to the forest, he accompanied you to the edge of the forest.

“I will be fine from here on.”

“I heard about the marauders, maybe I should come with you?”

You shook your head. It would surely arouse Loki's anger if he found you in the company of a stranger and after a light-hearted day like this, an angry god was not what you needed for a peaceful evening.

“I am well protected." You glanced up into his light eyes that seemed to glow softly in this moment. "I'll be back tomorrow. Think of something you can teach me, Loptr, I fear we will have a lot of time on our hands that can be used for studying.”

A lopsided grin appeared on his face.

"I already have something in mind.”

You smiled as you bid him farewell and entered the forest. The smile was still on your face when you reached the god's house. Finding it empty you started to prepare dinner and when you walked into the bathing chamber you were surprised to find the tub full of fragrant water that had just the right temperature. _You are getting spoiled,_ you thought to yourself as you slipped out of your clothes and into the soothing water.

Your long hair was still damp when you finished the bowl of stew you had cooked. After that you busied yourself with sorting the herbs that Loki and you had brought from Eir's cottage, waiting for your god to return. You worked until you grew too tired to keep your eyes open and finally surrendered and crawled under the cold, silken covers of the god's bed.

There was a soft ache in your heart. You missed him.

Then you thought of Loptr. His laugh. Those glacier eyes.

And a small smile appeared on your lips.

Just before you drifted into sleep, a strong arm wrapped around you to pull you against a hard, cool chest.

“Loki?” You muttered, already half asleep.

“Where you expecting anyone else?” he whispered in a low growl that vibrated through his chest.

You tried to turn around to face him, but he held you firmly in place.

“Sleep.” the god's velvet voice ordered.

With a sigh you surrendered.

  
***

  
The next morning Loki was gone, even though it could not have been long, because his scent still lingered in the air. You rose and got ready for the day, packing some herbs you wanted to ask Loptr about. When you left the house, you decided to take a different route and walk along the river.

It was a clear morning, whisps of mist hung over the stream and the sunlight danced in the sparkles on the water.

You glanced out onto the peacefully swirling waters and were startled when a figure broke through the surface. You ducked behind a tree, but relaxed when you realised it was your god, who emerged from the waters, standing with his back to you in the waist deep stream he ran his fingers through his hair to squeeze out the access water and you watched in awe as countless sparkling crystals pearled down his blue body.

You were sure your mouth dropped open then.

_Beautiful and terrifying. Indeed._

The light caught in the droplets in an almost magical way, turning the powerful creature you called your god into a being of immaculate, otherworldly beauty.

He turned around to ascend the river bank and you quickly hid further behind the tree, so that he would not catch you spying on him.

You couldn't take your eyes off him, though.

He shook the water out of hair and combed his fingers through it and you caught a glimpse of his eyes that glinted like rubies in the morning light.

Your heart ached at how beautiful he was.

_How was it that you had never before seen him like this?_

Your fingers dug into the bark of the tree you were hiding behind as your chest contracted painfully.

You ached for him. Your entire being ached to be with him. 

_Was it not ironic? Now that you were willing to be with him, it was he who rejected you._

When he reached the river bank, you allowed your eyes to trail over his body. The patterns on his skin that swirled over his chest and arms and legs and even … your eyes got stuck on the piece of manhood that stood proudly and erect between his legs.

_Gracious Goddess, you had never imagined to ever think of it as beautiful._

There were ridges even along his strong shaft, leading straight up the velvet skin towards the tip where the blue faded into a soft purple.

_Goddes help me._

You licked your lips as your mouth was suddenly dry.

What was wrong with you? Why were you suddenly so enarmoured with - even his manhood?

 _Especially_ his manhood.

Why did you have the desire to touch him? Taste him?

You quickly put a hand over your mouth to suppress any sounds that threatened to escape and would surely draw his attention. After a few deep breath you calmed down a little and watched as he sat down on a flat rock close to the water. A low growl left his throat when his fingers wrapped around his hardness.

The god's head fell back, his lips parted and his red eyes fluttered shut.

_Goddess have mercy._

You felt your cheeks heat up. It was the most beautiful and most arousing thing you had ever witnessed and you found yourself entirely transfixed by the scene that unfolded before you. The way he moved his hand, stroking himself languidely as his chest rose and fell, drops of water sparkling on his skin like gemstones in the morning sun.

The sweet sounds that left his lips, soft groans and needy moans.

You sank down on your knees, dug your nails into the tree and bit the back of your hand.

It did not take long for him to grip his member tightly and his muscular body arched as milky strings of his seed squirted onto his stomach.

Your name left his lips in a loud groan.

Your heart stopped.

Breathless, he repeated your name, now a mere whisper. Then he cursed.

His head fell back on the rock, chest still heaving, he drew one leg up and stretched out on the rock, waiting for his body to calm down.

After a few long moments, he sat up. With a flick of his hand he cleaned himself and in a shimmer of light, clothes covered his body. You moved for cover behind the tree when the god stood and walked back in direction of the house.

You leaned against the tree in a feeble attempt of seeking stability.

_He thought of you when he pleasured himself?_

Was this what the bond did to you - and him? 

Right now you wanted nothing more than to run after him and spend the rest of the day in his bed or on his lap, touching him, tasting him and giving him pleasure.

What was happening to you? You were turning into a feral creature full of lust.

This had nothing to do with love.

And yet you felt the throbbing ache inside your chest and the thought of him rising from the water made your heart explode with love. Not lust.

The desire to unite with him had risen from recognising his beauty and the agonising realisation that you were separate from him. You needed to be one with him.

Confused you gathered yourself and rose to your feet.

It would be good to spend the day away from him, getting your mind off him and focusing on other things.

 

Notes:

 _Loptr_ is another kenning for Loki. It means air and often refers to the fact that he can travel through the air and the worlds with the help of some magical shoes. I referred it to the wind, since the wind shares quite a few of Loki's characteristic traits. Mythological Loki is amongst other things, a god of laughter, who brings light-heartedness into one's life. He is also (not so well known) a guardian of children.

vǫlva - is the Norse woman shaman or wise woman. An independent woman who travels the country and helps those in need. Today it is sometimes translated as 'witch', a word that often sadly holds a negative connotation. vǫlvas were  _seiðkonur_ (Seiðr-women). Women who practiced magic.

_Krúttið mitt - sweet one, cutie_

Fun Viking facts:

Vikings were actually farmers, who tended to their animals and fields most of the year.

A typical Viking village contained a few longhouses and was often built on a hill or a raised piece of land, which made it easier to defend the village.

Viking were also traders - and (I forgot to mention this in the last chapter) they actually imported silk and paper from the Far East.

but their houses did not have any windows, that's why Loki's house is somewhat unusual. 

Last but not least:

Despite the belief that most Vikings were blond and blue-eyed, there were many dark haired and dark eyed people amongst them, especially in the South of Norway. Some were fair skinned, with dark hair and light eyes - just like our favourite god :)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am always keen to know how you liked it. :)  
> And I know that I probably have some watching Loki bathe kink ... I just really love Loki and/in water.


	9. Spring breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loptr - :)

 

_This, by the way, is Hyvlatonnå - the sacred rock where our protagonist grew up ... well not on that rock, but in a small settlement in the fjord. The rock is the place Loki refers to as the veil between the worlds, it is where the priestesses would hold rituals. ... quite awesome, right? It's a place that captured my heart when I visited Norway. It's called Pulpit Rock, and is also known as the "place where you can speak to the gods" so I thought it befitting to weave it into the story._

__

_The fjord that used to be her home._

__

_this is how I imagine the village that she lives in now._

 

 

It took a while to get your mind off the dark god. Or rather, it took the presence of Loptr to finally focus your mind on other things. The tall man seemed to have you under spell with his sparkling eyes, mischievous smirks and overall kindness. You stole a glance at him more often than you should have. You caught your gaze lingering on his slender fingers as he deftly bundled herbs and you admired the strength of his hands when he crushed tree resin for potions into a fine powder without the slightest effort. Both of you had collected herbs out in the meadows and now prepared them for drying. Loptr suddenly looked up, offering you a wide smile as he held out a sprig of thyme for you to smell. 

"Isn't it fragrant? I believe this is the best thyme you can find on Miðgarðr."

"Quite likely, the best." You replied with a grin. The twinkle in his eyes and his enthusiasm reminded you of that of a child. Maybe that was why the children loved him so, because he was so much like them and yet there was something about him. Something deep and ancient, you couldn't put your finger on it. Couldn't describe it with words. "The herbs are growing well here because the land is riddled with _vættir_." Loptr said, putting the sprig back into the bundle. 

"Are there? Many _landvættir?_ "

Loptr glanced at you with a slight frown on his face. 

"I believed a  _seiðkona_ would be able to see or at least sense elemental beings and nature spirits. You speak as though you -" He broke off when you averted your gaze.

Your heart clenched. He had reminded you of a painful truth that you had attempted to deny for a while. The fact that you had lost your ability to see spirits of nature, or even _húsvættir,_ those small creatures that pottered around human dwellings.

"You - _cannot_ see them?" Loptr asked carefully and you just shook your head. 

"Not anymore. Not since I -" The words were stuck in your throat.

_Not since you were enslaved by the man who had made you watch as he slaughtered your family._

You couldn't bring yourself to say it, so instead you fiddled with the hem of your sleeve and muttered, "I used to play with them when I was a child. Gnomes and fairies. The forest around Hyvlatonnå is full of _vættir_ too _._ " The memories of those creatures painted a small smile onto your face. 

"Good memories?" You were surprised by the softness and evident concern in Loptr's voice. He seemed to have compassion enough not to ask you why you had lost your ability to see and you were grateful for that.

"Yes. Good memories", you nodded and he seemed pleased. "I miss _Sváfnir_ though _,_ the guardian spirit of our fjord. He is wise and was a powerful friend."

"You befriended one of the guardian of the fjords? A giant serpent? You are, indeed, full of surprises." He cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

"My kin revers the Goddess, Loptr. We live in harmony with the Earth-Mother and don't judge her creatures. Amongst the  _vatnavættir,_   _Nagas_  hold a special place as we see them as the direct guardians of the Goddess herself."

"Nevertheless, your s _eiðr_ must be powerful to befriend one of the giant serpents. I heard that even some gods fear those creatures."

You shrugged your shoulders. 

"I don't think my s _eiðr_ is any more powerful. We made friends when I was very young. And what about you? I have never met a man knowledgeable in the art of healing and s _eiðr."_

"My mother taught me the art of  _seiðr_ and I studied healing with Eir." 

You heaved a small sigh.

"I wish I had spent more time with Eir. She is a powerful vǫlva. Maybe she would have been willing to teach me."

Loptr looked at you, an unreadable expression on his features, but didn't say any more. You went back to gathering the herbs into small bundles. Ever so often, you glanced over at him. Admiring the way the wind played with his raven locks, the graceful movement as he tucked the wayward strands behind his ear, his clear eyes that resembled crystal and his soft skin ...

You halted your thoughts and quickly averted your eyes.

_What were you doing?_

You were admiring him far more than necessary.

_How could his mere presence capture your entire attention?_

Over the next few days, you attempted to make sense of your feelings, which proved rather difficult, because your god evaded your presence, while Loptr seemed to seek it. Loki was never around when you came home and only appeared when you were on the verge of falling asleep. That was when his strong arms carefully cradled you to keep you from having nightmares. By the time you woke he would be gone.

While your god avoided you, Loptr seemed eager to devote his entire time to you and your feelings for him grew with every day you spent together. Your heart skipped every time he laughed and when he smiled at you, it felt as though there were countless butterflies inside your stomach. And those green-blue eyes that reminded you of ocean water seemed to offer you nothing but warmth and kindness. 

"I would like to teach you something new today", Loptr awaited you at the edge of the forest and the two of you started walking along the pastures of the village.

"You've already taught me so many things. I think it is high time for _me_ to return the favour, although I must admit, I'm not sure if there is anything I can offer you in return." You answered lightly, but when you looked up at him, you were bemused to see a shadow cross over his face. He blinked and averted his gaze. 

"Have I said anything to offend you?" you asked quickly, and when he lifted his gaze again, his eyes were alight with the usual sparkle. He slowly shook his head.

"You didn't. You merely have a very pure heart." He muttered and you opened your mouth to ask him what he meant by that, but he spoke again before you were able to. "I am rash and reckless and often ahead of myself, but I never truly mean to bring harm." His gaze wavered and trailed off into the distance. "I used to think that I do not care. But the truth is that I have done things I regret, so I wish to do something right." He stopped and looked at you. His next words made your eyes widen in disbelief. "I wish to teach you _seiðr_."

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel tears gather in your eyes but you were unable to find any words.

"You are a _seiðrkona_ of the Sacred Rock. An ancient pure blood. You are destined to be a mistress of _seiðr,_ a __vǫlva__ not a mere  _laeknir_."

"You - you would do that? You would really teach me?" 

"Maybe I can right some of the wrongs by teaching you", he murmured. 

"I don't know what it is you have done that weighs on your heart, Loptr, but to me you've only shown kindness. You've brought laughter back into my life, and I am truly thankful for that."

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile but it didn't reach his eyes.

" _Seiðr_ is part of you. It's in your blood. Of course, I will teach you."

His gaze was laced with sadness as he reached out and took your hand into his, gently brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. A familiar warmth spread through you, slowly settling in your core and you bit your lip. When he let go of your hand, you were left with an unfamiliar ache of emptiness. 

"I would have chosen my teacher on the first day of the new year." It would have been the beginning of your training as a priestess.

"The spring solstice? It is less than a half moon away", Loptr said, "Maybe the Norns have their hands in this?" 

"Maybe." You looked at him and then you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him tightly. "Thank you."

It felt incredibly good when his hands moved over your back. Too good. You quickly released him and stepped back. 

"I never realised how beautiful you are when you smile." He muttered as he regarded you. When he took a step towards you and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, you didn't retreat or flinch from his touch, instead you felt a familiar yearning flare up inside you and your cheeks flushed. 

_Impossible. You'd only ever felt this for your god._

"I - I am consecrated to Hveðrungr", you said quickly. 

"The angry god?" Loptr's voice was full of incredulity. "I have never heard of him having a priestess."

"He has now." The tone of your voice had an unexpected bite and when you met Loptr's gaze, the expression on his face faltered.

"You are serious about this?"

"Why would I not be serious about this?"

"Because - I hear he is - _terrifying_." he offered.

"He is. Indeed."

"Merciless they say."

"Absolutely correct."

"He has a terrible temper, too."

"He does. Dreadful, actually."

"And he is disrespectful."

"More often than not."

"Savage."

"Most of the time."

"A God of Lies."

"Oh, yes."

"A heinous, cold-hearted creature."

You shook your head. 

"No."

Loptr's eyes widened a little. 

"No?"

"I thought he was, but he - I know him to have a tender heart. He is neither heinous nor cold-hearted."

Loptr's mouth opened, then closed without him saying a word. He licked his lips. Then he tried again.

"Why would you consecrate yourself to such a savage creature?"

"I didn't. I was sacrificed to him."

"A sacrifice? You were _willing_ to accept him?"

You swallowed. Then you decided that Loptr didn't have to know this little detail. That you'd been unwilling, because it didn't matter anymore. 

"I accepted him as my god." You said and Loptr stared at you, now with evident curiosity in his gaze and the touch of spite in his voice.

"You accepted a god who brings nothing but destruction and terror?"

He was right, of course.  _Hveðrungr - Loki -_ was not a god like Freyr or Njord. he was not even tempered, neither offered he beauty or peace - at least not at first glance. You yourself had believed Loki to be a bringer of discord and destruction, but the more time you had spent with him, the more you had been able to see his other side. A side that you had thought impossible for such a wild creature to possess. And because your god was ferocious, his tenderness was just as intense and overwhelming as the rest of him.

" _Hveðrungr_ is _my_ god and you would do well not to insult him in front of his priestess!" You warned him. You may have chosen your god unwillingly but you refused to feel like a victim because of it. 

"What makes you say such a thing? Is it because you fear his wrath?" Loptr looked taken aback, shocked even. 

You huffed. 

"Why would I fear his wrath? There are more terrifying things about him than his wrath."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"And what would be more terrifying than his wrath?"

You bit your lip.

_His beauty. His tender words. The way he looked at you and touched you._

"Why would you think I fear anything about him?" You said dismissively.

A small smile spread on Loptr's lips.

"So you are fearless, then, are you?"

You shook your head. 

"No. I fear a lot of things."

"Then you must have courage", Loptr whispered, suddenly standing much closer than before. "Courage is something one only can have in the face of fear."

When you tried to retreat one strong arm snaked around you his hand settling on the small of your back to hold you in place, while Loptr's free hand came up to cup your face. Your bodies were not touching and yet the mere gesture of him holding you like this. The cool touch of his hand on your cheek. His eyes seemed to dazzle you and for the first time you could feel his _seiðr._  It surrounded him like a field, you could feel the tingle on your skin. He leaned towards you bringing his lips close to your ear. 

"Are you frightened right now?"

You shivered and whispered a soft, "Let me go, please."

He released you immediately, but your heart was already racing and your face was hot. 

"I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." He said apologetically, but the look in his eyes and the mischievous smirk that flitted across his face betrayed him. 

It should have made you assert yourself. Tell him that you were loyal to your god. 

But you didn't. You couldn't. 

Maybe it was the fact that Loki denied you his touch or merely the fact that your god avoided you entirely, that made Loptr's attention so welcome. The mischief and cheekiness in his eyes made you smile.

As soon as your lips widened, a triumphant grin spread on Loptr's face.

"I will not speak ill of your god anymore, I promise." He said softly. "Will you still accept me as your teacher?"

You nodded. 

"Good." Loptr extended his hands towards you. "Do you trust me?"

_I do._

Even though you weren't entirely sure why.

He led you deep into the forest, assuring you that you did not need to worry about his safety as he would be able to hide from your wrathful god if necessary. You were still worried. You didn't even want to think about how angry Loki would be if he found you with Loptr - alone in the forest. Your anxiety eased when you reached a small clearing, where he settled on the soft grass. It was a magical place. The sunlight streamed into it and the first spring flowers had already started to bloom. 

"Sit with me."

You sat down opposite of him.

"Now close your eyes and focus on your breath."

You spent the rest of the afternoon learning how to focus and direct your breath. Your mother had taught you the basics of the flow of  _seiðr_ in the body, but when Loptr began to speak about the subtle nervous system with its energy centres and the three main channels of life-energy, you realised that you could not have found a better teacher. It was as though a different side of his nature emerged. One that was deep and full of wisdom and for a moment you were sure that the Goddess herself had blessed you by sending him.

There was a saying in your kin. "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." It seemed to hold true. It seemed the Goddess was guiding your steps.

By the time you returned to the cottage it was late and you were tired. With a relieved sigh you sank into the warm waters of the bath, letting your hands run over your body to clean your skin. Your mind drifted to Loptr. The gaze of his blue eyes, his vibrating voice. Your fingertips brush your breasts and your breath hitched.

Loptr's eyes changed, taking on the faint glow of red. Lines appeared on his forehead, his skin bleeding a blue hue. 

 _Loki._  

The memory of the god, pleasuring himself in the morning light, rushed back into your mind. With a soft moan, one of your hands slipped between your legs. You imagined him towering over you, eyes full of fire, his toned body glistening from the bath water, his hardness poking your thigh. 

 _God. Loki._  

Your head sank back against the edge of the bath and you closed your eyes, allowing Loki's face to appear in front of your mind's eye, while your fingers stroked along your warmth which was throbbing impatiently. You imagined closing your hand around his hardness. Feeling the ridges on his skin. Hearing his soft moans of pleasure as you stroked his firm shaft. 

_"Loki."_

Your free hand cupped your breast, imagining your god's lips and teeth close around your nipple instead of your fingers. You mouth fell open, your breath coming in short gasps.

"Oh god." The tips of your fingers drew circles around the small knob between your legs, the same way that Loki would do to give you pleasure. You imagined how he would crowd you against the side of the bath, his tongue invading your mouth. How he would spread your legs and sink his teeth into your neck. 

_Goddess, help me._

How his hardness would breach your entrance.

_Loki. Oh, my god._

"My god", you moaned softly, about to push your fingers deep into your warmth, when a cold hand closed around your wrist and stopped you from moving further. You whimpered.

"And what exactly do you hope to accomplish by summoning me while you are pleasuring yourself?" The god's low voice growled.

 

 

***  

_The beginning of the year in this story is marked by the equinox in Spring, which was known as the festival of Ostara (we know it as Easter now)._

 

_Nagas aren't from North mythology but Asian/Indian/Indogermanic. They are giant serpents and the guardians of rivers and lakes._

 

_Vættir are spirits in Norse mythology. Apparently the term refers to the entire range of supernatural beings - from nature spirits to elves, dwarves and gods - but can specifically refer to nature spirits._

_Landvættir are (usually) subterranean guardians of land or places. But the term can refer to fairies and guardians of any kind. Apparently, when the Vikings approached land, they remove the carved dragon heads from their longships, so as not to frighten and thus provoke the landvættir to attack and thereby incur bad luck._

_vatnavættir are guardians of specific waters._

 

_húsvættir are benevolent house spirits._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh! trouble ahead! .. sorry for the cliffhanger!!


	10. Treacherous icy conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all ... Loki is - well - Loki ... in his obnoxious way
> 
>  
> 
> but at least we get to have a peek into his head :)

 

Your eyes opened and you turned your head to find the god's face next to yours. His red eyes glowed dangerously, which sent a pleasant shudder through your body and your gaze dropped to his lips. You let your head sink back a little further as you softly sighed his name.

The grip on your wrist loosened, his cold fingers slipping down to rest on top of your hand that lay in the apex between your thighs. You felt your soft parts throbbing impatiently, your need increasing tenfold by his touch. The god's ruby eyes held your gaze as his slender fingers stroked along your own before he pushed them into your warm channel. You gasped his name and his free hand fisted your hair, holding your head in place.

“Is this what you want?” The way his voice had dropped to a low whisper sent shivers down your body.

“Yes.” You answered with moan.

He snarled and extracted his fingers. You whined.

“Please, Loki.”

With a low growl, he pushed them back in, roughly, pressing his palm against your clit. A jolt of pleasure shot through you and it took a mere three or four thrusts of his fingers to make tumble over the edge into the bliss of release. The grip on your hair tightened painfully as you gasped his name and rocked your hips against his hand. He stared at you when you opened your eyes and you couldn't take your eyes off his. The god's ruby orbs were ablaze with fire.

Without thinking you brought your hand up to his face and cupped it tenderly, noticing his eyelids flutter at your touch. 

"I need you", you whispered, "My god."

The fire in his eyes flared and for a moment you thought he would lean in and kiss you, but then he pulled away and let go of your hair, extracting his fingers so quickly that you gasped in surprise. 

"Do not tempt me." He hissed and before you could react, he pulled you upright by your shoulders and lifted you out of the bath. The sudden change in temperature made you shiver.

“Loki – what --”

“Quiet. This is the last time you tempted me.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you into the main room towards the bed, but instead of throwing you onto it, he pushed you down on your knees beside it.

Confused you reached up to clasp his hand.

“Loki?”

He didn't meet your gaze, but caught your wrists and tied them together. Your heart stopped.

_What - what was he doing?_

“I warned you.” He snarled before he attached your wrists to the bed post. "You only have yourself to blame for this."

_No. Please, no._

Your mind was racing.

“Loki - I - please -”

“Don't!" He held up a finger in warning and the now icy gaze of his glowing eyes sent a chill through you. "I swear, I will seal that treacherous little mouth of yours if you utter another word.”

You bit your tongue and fought back the tears that were rising to your eyes. Without another glance at you, your god turned away and you watched as he walked over to the fire place to settle in his chair. In a flash of green light he conjured a book and started reading.

***

Loki forced himself not to look at the girl.

The storm of emotions that raged inside his being was as irritating as it was confusing.

He had tried to do the right thing. He had stayed away from her, so not to strengthen that cursed bond. He had kept her safe from harm. 

And what about her? She had nothing better to do than to tease him. Tempt him into binding her to him even more. 

The dark god willed his attention back to the pages of the book, but his mind was unable to decipher the words on the page. He closed his eyes for a moment. He would not allow his heart to soften now, because this was exactly what would happen if he took only one glance at her. Seeing those gentle eyes of her widen in shock and catching the glimpse of betrayal inside them when she pleaded with him, had almost made him falter already. He was not going to take any more chances. 

She had obeyed him though and had made no more attempt to speak to him. Instead she now sat quietly on the floor by the bed, shivering because her skin was still damp and he had left her naked and vulnerable. Loki had quelled the urge to warm her with a spell, she would only mistake it for an act of concern or compassion.

No, he would wait until she had fallen asleep to cast the spell and keep her warm.

Just because he couldn't stand her pathetic shivering.

Irritated the dark god turned the page.

Kindness was not a thing he was known for. It was a thing he had almost given up, especially when he dwelled in his birth form. Kindness had never won him anything but grief. 

And yet, it had not been his intention to treat her this harshly. But it seemed to be the only way. The only way to make her leave him and break the spell.

He had tried to do the right thing by appearing to her in his Aesir form and giving her what she wanted. Loptr. A kind, humorous man she could trust.

His Aesir form had given Loki access nearly every goddess' bed. Even Sif had not been able to resist his charms, when Thor was away on one of his glorious trips to save the Nine Realms, while he left his beautiful wife behind. It was his brother's own fault that Sif had found solace in Loki's arms. Loki in turn had found her extraordinarily resourceful and creative in unexpected ways. He would not have thought that his brother's wife could be so entertaining in bed. It would have been better for Thor to have let Sit join him on his journeys, like he used to. She was a warrior after all. 

He had thought that his little flower would be just the same. That she would fall for his Aesir appearance, for Loptr, without hesitation. 

Why did she have to be so stubborn?

It had not even been his intention to seduce her in the beginning. He came to her as Loptr to keep an eye on her when she was in the village and to keep her from calling on him unnecessarily. But after he had found the book of love magic a couple of days ago, he had decided to use Loptr to his advantage. 

The dark god sighed. 

If only she had never told him about her birth place. Her kin. 

The dark god had believed himself impervious to the quarrels of mortals and their seemingly never-ceasing cruelty, so it was rather disconcerting that what the girl’s story had managed to touch his heart. His little flower was right. He was _not_ a heartless god. Admittedly, it was shocking how perceptive she was, since he had been under the impression that he had learnt to hide and protect the most vulnerable part of his being quite well.  

To learn thathis little flower was the last sorceress of the Sacred Rock had pained him deeply. It meant that she was the last pure-blood sorceress on Midgard. It also meant that the only peaceful people in this realm had been slaughtered by some beastly barbarians.

He should have realised it sooner, of course, who the Goddess she claimed loyalty to was. And where she belonged to.

The god's hand clenched into a fist.

Now that he was aware of all this, he wished he would have made those barbarians suffer before he granted them death. 

Loki rubbed his hand over his forehead and sighed softly.

Her ancestry explained her remarkable strong will which was paired with a childlike innocence and why she enchanted him so. It also explained why she had the fragrance of a flower. Because she was pure. A pure, liberated soul, born into this realm for only one purpose: to maintain and protect peace - that was why her people had been known as the Guardians of Midgard. 

It had soothed Loki's heart to some extent, How much she enjoyed Loptr's company and that he found ways to make her smile. Her mere presence in turn soothed _him_ in ways he was unable to comprehend.

He longed to see her safe. And most of all happy.

The dark god cringed at the thought, his gaze flicking to the girl's naked form.

He wished to see her happy. What in Hel's name was he doing then, tying her up like a prisoner?

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, against the headrest of the chair.

Because the happiness she sought with him was merely an illusion. The only thing that bound her to him was a cursed spell. That was the true reason she wanted him. The _only_ reason.

It was neither free will nor genuine devotion that kept her at his side. It was  _seiðr_ \- magic - nothing more, nothing less.

Norns, why did she have to taunt him like she did? Test him like this? Call on him as she pleasured herself in the bath?

He would have liked to haul her out of the water, bend her over the rim of the tub and –-

The god swallowed hard.

_Don't go there, Loki._

His still painfully hard manhood twitched at the thought of taking his little flower in the warm bath water and with a soft moan, Loki allowed his fingers to brush over the front of his pants before he willed the thought away.

_Don't even fantasise about it._

_Look!_

_Look what you have done to her!_

He opened his eyes and risked a glance. The girl's eyes were closed now, her head slumped against her arm. She would have sore shoulders in the morning.

And why would you care?

He could tell that she was not asleep, even though she was tired, exhausted, probably from her s _eiðr_ training.

Would she be able to sleep at all if he left her like this?

Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that he had, indeed, warned her. He had threatened to tie her up, so she was at least _partly_ to blame for this. And since the cursed spell made her want him so badly, this was the only way. The only way to stop it and set her free. 

_Make her hate you._

Force her to seek out the safety of Loptr's arms.

Once the spell was dissolved it would be much easier for him to let her go.

Forget her.

He was a god and had no business being infatuated with a mortal.

Had he not learnt this lesson early on? How was it that he had forgotten it so carelessly? 

How could he have forgotten the reason _why_ he enjoyed putting fear into mortal's hearts? How could he have forgotten the reason why only children deserved to see the side of him that offered laughter - and shelter?

Because he abhorred how quickly mortals grew up. Grew old. And died.

Pathetic creatures. 

How could he have forgotten?

_"These are my people, Loki. I want you to meet them, because your fate is intricately entwined with them."_

His mother's voice wafted through the god's mind and his outer vision blurred as the memory rose before his inner eye.

An old memory. A very old memory.

_He was a small child, standing by his mother's side on the flat surface of the Sacred Rock, facing a small gathering of people. His mother held his hand and knelt down beside him as one of the children stepped forward to offer her a wreath of flowers. The girl smiled shyly at Loki before she placed the flower crown on his mother's head and brought her arms around Frigga to hug her._

“ _Is this your son?” She whispered, unable to hide her curiosity. The goddess nodded and the girl smiled._

_“I am Svandis.” Her large blue eyes were large and clear like crystal pools he thought he could drown in._

“ _My name is Loki”, he offerd in reply and she giggled. A sound that made his heart flutter._

“ _You are - a goddess?” He looked at her, confused, but pleased that she giggled again at his question._

“ _No. I'm just named after one. Are you – a god?”_

_Loki nodded._

“T _he God of Mischief.”_

_The girl's eyes widened and she laughed softly._

_“That sounds like fun. Do you want to come play with me?” She held out her hand to him. Loki glanced up at his mother and Frigga gave him permission with a small nod of her head._

_“I will come and get you when it is time to leave, Loki.”_

_He took the girl's hand and followed her._

_The memory faded._

_Svandis._

It was one of his first memories of Midgard. A memory that he had pushed into the depths of his mind over the centuries, because as sweet as it was it also filled him with pain. The pain of loss. Loki had joined his mother many more times after that, eager to visit his new friend. And while he stayed a boy who hardly grew older, he watched Svandis grow into a woman, become a priestess, a powerful vǫlva and he saw her grow old. Then, one day when he visited the Sacred Rock again, they told him that Svandis had passed away. A _decade_ ago.

He never returned after that, because his heart was unable to face the pain. Her soul had gone and he had not even had the chance to bid her farewell. While time seemed to stretch into eternity on Asgard, on Midgard it seemed to fly with infinite speed.

After Svandis, Loki had decided that making friends was too hurtful. Especially Midgardian friends. But even in Asgard, he cared not to let anyone closer than necessary. No matter how much Odin promised him an equal place amongst the Aesir by entrusting his adoptive son with delicate matters of diplomacy, Loki knew that he would always be regarded a Jotnar.

A Frost Giant. An enemy.

But he had come to terms with the fact that he would never truly be accepted by the gods of the Realm Eternal, because Asgard was the only home he knew. And it was home to those he held dear to his heart. He accepted the fact that he would never fit in. Nevertheless, the fact that he was not welcome was part of the reason he liked to travel. When Odin had offered him the role of a messenger, an ambassador between the realms, Loki had accepted it gratefully. It allowed Loki to move around freely.

“Svandis”, he muttered softly, focusing his eyes on the page of the open book in his lap.

His first and last friend. 

The pain of the loss had been eating away on his heart for centuriesand turned it bitter. 

He truly despised mortals. 

Pathetic creatures with pathetic life-spans.

He groaned.

First Svandis. Now his little flower.

The Norns were too cruel.

Like a sadistic and utterly malicious twist of destiny, both women were not even "mere" mortals, but descendants of a handful of Vanir who had chosen mortality in order to settle on Midgard as the guardians of the realm. They became known as the ancient pure-bloods.

Guardians of Earth and worshippers of the Great Goddess. 

Loki huffed. Who in their right mind would voluntarily choose mortality?

The ancestors of his little flower had. And he, Loki of Asgard, had violated her in more ways than one. He had defiled her sacredness, stolen her virginity and taken away her freedom. And he was not proud of it anymore. His flower was pure. She had been entirely innocent. And now she was bound to him by magic.

Loki pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes and took a deep breath.

He had not cried in centuries. He would not start now. Not for the sake of a mortal.

Yes, he was obsessed with the girl – but it had to stop.

So, when he had come across the spell book on love magic a couple of nights ago, he had devised a plan.

Love magic was maybe the trickiest kind of  _seiðr,_ since one was unable to predict the outcome of a spell. All kinds of unforseen problems could arise once the spell had been cast. It was complicated  _seiðr_ as it needed the two parties involved to be at least drawn to each other, because, despite popular belief, love magic did _not_ make people fall in love. It drew on what was there already and blew it out of proportion.

And it had a loophole.

If the bond had not been created from the love of a pure heart or at least with loving intention, it was able to be dissolved if one of the parties involved offered their heart to someone else.

Since he had forced himself upon her and his flower despised him, he had thought it would not be hard to make her lose her heart to Loptr.

At least that was what Loki had assumed. 

His Aesir form had everything a goddess desired – he had found proof for that too many times - so why did his little mortal stubbornly refuse to give him her heart?

Had he not offered her everything she desired?

Loptr was a god. Not any god. He was pleasing to the eye and handsome in appearance and on top of it, he was able to satisfy a women's every need. No woman really cared about a righteous character as long as the man was good looking and an exceptional lover, right?

The god drew a deep breath. Maybe that rule only applied for goddesses?

His flower was full of surprises. Loki had never anticipated the girl to be so loyal to him. The way she had defended him in front of Loptr had alarmed him. She had even dismissed the fact that Loki had made her his _unwillingly_. On top of it, she had claimed that he had a heart.

A _tender_ heart.

Loki sniggered and pinched the bridge of his nose.

That moment in the bath, she had called out to him with such devotion, such - he had almost believed that she called to him out of _love_. And he had almost faltered. Had _almost_ taken her to his bed to make love to her all night. 

He had almost fallen into the spell's trap. 

_Love._

_Love?_

Truly, how pathetic could he be? And they claimed that he was the most cunning amongst the gods. 

Loki scoffed at his own stupidity. 

His little mortal flower was under spell. A _spell_. Nothing more. 

No love.

And even if it had been love. She was _mortal_. 

A pathetic creature with a pathetic life-span.

Had he known about the bond earlier, he would never have bedded her that night. The night he asked her to imagine him her lover.

He had basically triggered the spell back then.

And yet, he did not regret it, because for him that night with her had been a precious gift. To hold her in his arms. Her soft body moulded against his own. Hearing her moans, feeling her tender touch.

So sweet.

Her luscious lips on his. Her warm tongue on his skin.

The way her tight, hot channel embraced him had sent him straight to Valhalla.

Never before had he enjoyed being a Frost Giant more than he had that night. 

_Stop it! Stop right there!_

Loki growled and threw the book across the room. It hit the wall and fell to the ground with a soft thump. The god sighed and rubbed his forehead, before a movement caught his attention and he straightened up, regaining his composure. When he glanced over to the girl, she was looking at him with large innocent eyes. Loki narrowed his own eyes at her and snarled baring his teeth. 

 _"Irritating creature"_ , he thought, albeit unsure if he was speaking of the girl or of himself.

If she was so loyal to him that she refused to fall for Loptr, he would have to make her. Show her that she meant nothing to him.

Make Loptr her safe haven.

 

 

 

_Fun Loki facts you probably already know:_

_In mythology, Loki is Odin's blood-brother and regarded his equal. Every drink offered to Odin is always offered to Loki as well. Despite this, Loki is not welcomed with open arms, since he often causes trouble for the gods._

_Another "fact" is that Loki (in a famous poem called the Lokasenna) points out all the flaws of the gods and goddesses - amongst other things, he claims that he bedded Sif, Thor's wife - so that's where this came from_

_And last but not least, in the Myths, Loki is always described as pleasing and handsome... and accused of possessing a fair bit of vanity. ... and the most cunning amongst the gods... thought I'd throw that in there as well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah!! Loki can be so incredibly thick-headed and obnoxious!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for leaving kudos and comments 💕 they are - as always - more than welcome and very much appreciated!! :)


	11. Winter has returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is doing his best at being the worst he can be.
> 
> So sorry, I upset some of you with this chapter! I guess I should have a warning ahead, that this contains an abusive relationship!! It's only this chapter, it will sort itself out, but if it causes a problem, then please skip this chapter!!

You woke curled up on the hard wooden floor. Astoundingly, you were feeling a lot warmer than you had last night, even though you were still naked. Without making a sound, you raised your head to cautiously glance around.

The room was empty. Your god was gone.

Even though this should have made you feel relieved, your heart contracted painfully at the awareness that he had left. There was no rational explanation for your feelings. Loki had been heartless and brutal, and yet, the god's mere presence gave you comfort last night, while now you felt the pang of separation. 

You pushed yourself upright with a groan. Your entire body ached. Carefully, you rolled your shoulders and examined the bruises on your wrists. At least he had freed you, before he headed out and the pain could have been worse. You had endured  _much_  worse than this, hadn't you?

You blinked away the tears that started to gather in your eyes.

_What had happened to your god?_

_What had brought on the change in him?_

He had comforted you all these nights. Had assured you that you were safe with him. And he wanted you. By the Norns, you had heard him moan your name as he pleasured himself. 

Last night, when he hauled you out of the bath, you had been too shocked to fight him, too shocked to even panic when he tied you up. After that, you felt utterly lost. As you watched the tall god, sitting in the chair by the fire, absorbed in the book in his hands and entirely oblivious to your existence, you realised just how deep the promise of a priestess to her god ran. 

You were bound to Loki by the seiðr of the sacred union, ancient magic which had but one purpose - to make a priestess love and serve her god  _unconditionally_.

But as you sat there, bound and naked, shivering from the cold and entirely at his mercy, you realised that you were bound to this god by a bond much stronger than magic. A seiðr even more powerful, and far more ancient. 

You were bound to him by your heart. By  _love_.

It seemed that now that you had consciously opened your heart to him, the seiðrof the sacred union magnified and deepened this love in a way that lay beyond your comprehension.

Loki was now not only your god.

He had become your life.

Your very existence.

You needed him like a drowning man needed air to breathe. 

The most frightening part of this was that you were aware that you had no choice in this anymore. No matter if he succeeded in finding a way to break the bond from the trial, you were bound to him by magic that had taken root deep inside your heart. 

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. 

The Norns had a wicked sense of humour to make you fall for a capricious god who was reckless and knew no rules or boundaries. The Norns. They had their own way of weaving the fate of people, even the gods were at their mercy, and the fact that you ended up as Loki's sacrifice suddenly seemed suspiciously  _incidental_.

It could not have been a coincidence, though, that your paths had crossed in the forest that night. On the night of Yule. Loki had said it himself, that he was drawn to you by your "fragrance". Now that you thought about it, you remembered that your mother had told you that just as a priestess was drawn to a specific god, a priestess would also attract said god to her in various ways ... was it possible that - you had attracted him to you?

True, you had feared and despised the dark, fierce looking god in the beginning, and yet, you were sure now that your heart had been aware all along. The heart works on far deeper levels than the mind would ever understand, it recognises things long before they come to our awareness.

It seemed that the delicate weave of urðr had brought you and your god together again and again, so that, against all odds Hveðrungr, the terrifying, angry god, had become your safe haven - because your heart felt at home in his presence.

As a young girl, you had imagined that life in service of the gods, would be filled with joy, beauty and happiness. You believed all gods were kind and generous beings who showered their blessings upon human beings.

How naive you had been. 

You sank to your knees again.

You were willing to accept your fate, but your god seemed to test your faith at any opportunity. And truly, what kind of pairing was this?

While you had been brought up to treat other beings with compassion and kindness, your god was cruel and merciless and he cared not for others' suffering. While the principles of your life were based on peace and harmony, Hveðrungr's were based on strife and power. Your god was one that people fled from in fear. People prayed to him to stay away. 

Loving this god was asking you to go beyond anything you believed in - and yet, you had given him your heart without even being aware of it.

_Goddess have mercy. This love would take a lot of courage._

Loving him did not mean that you would not suffer if he chose to hurt you. He would be able to hurt you even more now, because those we hold dearest to our heart can inflict the deadliest wounds and since the seiðr of the Sacred Union was magnifying and deepening your love for him, it meant that you would not be able to leave Loki. No matter how he chose to treat you. You would have to learn to love him - unconditionally. 

How ironic that the ancient seiðr of love had robbed you of the thing you valued most in your life - your freedom - and there was nothing you could do about it. This terrified you. 

With a deep breath you rose to your feet, straightening up to your full height. That did not mean you would be weak, or fearfully await whatever Hveðrungr chose to unleash upon you.

 _Courage is something one can only have in the face of fear._  Was that not what Loptr had said?

You would face your fear with courage. Face your  _god_  with courage.

And from now on, you would not allow him to see if you suffered at his hands. You would accept the path the Goddess had chosen for you and learn to love your god unconditionally and without complaint. Whatever Loki decided to subject you to, you would accept it. It would without doubt be an arduous, rocky path, but you were determined to walk it to the end. You would learn to accept your god's darkness as well as his light.

As frightening as it was, he was your life-breath now. He was what you lived for. The seiðr of the sacred union had grown strong through your love, so strong that Loki's physical absence left a cold emptiness inside your being, a dark void that could only be filled by your god's presence.

You stepped up to the window and placed your hand on the cold, translucent surface that Loki called "glass", resting your gaze on the forest outside. It had snowed overnight and a thin, white blanket of snow covered everything. You watched in wonder as your breath stained the surface of the glass. With a sharp breath you pressed your forehead against it.

It terrified you to be at somebody's mercy.

But as long as he kept you close, you would be willing to do whatever he asked you to do.

But - what would happen if Loki decided to leave? 

_You needed to tell him. Tell him that you had consummated the sacred union. Tell him that this was what bound you to him, more than the curse from the trial. Tell him that you loved him._

And what would he do? He would think that you merely loved him because some ancient magical spell forced you to. He would never believe you that this bond was so strong because it was based on the love of a pure heart.

He would be furious.

He may even send you away.

Or leave you.

_No. No, you couldn't tell him._

With a heavy heart, you pushed away from the window.

All you could do was practice your seiðr and grow stronger, so that you could endure whatever lay ahead. With a god like Loki, the path that lay ahead was uncertain and probably not a sunlit one.

You pulled a warm dress over your head, fastened your belt around your waist and slipped into your winter boots before you wrapped up in your cape. The uncertainty of what awaited you tonight when you returned to the god's home, made your stomach churn, but when you pushed the door open and stepped outside, you banned those thoughts from your mind. At least for the rest of the day you would be with Loptr. An exceptionally kind man.

A small smile graced your lips when you closed the door behind you. 

***

 

"You did well." There was a distinct touch of pride in Loptr's voice as he spoke. "Now, let's try that again."

Loptr and you were sitting by the stream just outside the village. It was a remote and quiet spot and the murmuring of the water soothed your mind, which was exactly why he had chosen this place for your practice. Because you needed a quiet mind.

Your lesson this morning was to concentrate your seiðr in order to bring it into form. Make it visible. You had been sitting in this spot for hours, focusing on the subtle energies that flowed through you, in an attempt to visualise and finally manifest them.

For the fraction of a moment, you had managed to produce a tiny purple flame between the palms of your hands and while Loptr seemed exceedingly pleased with the result of your efforts, he was also a tireless teacher, who would not allow you to rest on success of a fleeting victory.

"Again." He requested in a soft voice.

You extended your arms a little, the palms of you hands cupped as though you were holding an invisible bowl, and then you focused on the flow of your magic. By now it was relatively easy to sense its energy and visualised it as small rivulets of purple light that pulsed through your body, before you willed its flow towards your hands, where you gathered it. 

"May I help you?" Loptr's question broke your concentration and you merely nodded, bringing your focus back to what you were doing, but failed miserably, when he moved behind you and brought his arms around your body to take a gentle hold of your hands.

Your heart skipped a beat, before it started racing and you felt your entire body flush. When you attempted to bring your focus back to your task, you noticed that your hands were trembling. 

"Try again." He encouraged you, but you were so overwhelmed by the sensation of his chest pressing against your back and the warmth of his hands on the back of yours that you found yourself unable to focus - at all. You could hardly breathe because your heart was beating so quickly.

All you could feel was a longing rising from within you. A longing for him to be closer.

He moved again, leaning forward and when he spoke, his mouth was right next to your ear and you could feel his warm breath fanning your skin. You heard him speak, but his words floated through your mind without conveying their meaning to you. His voice. His voice was like -

_Loki's._

It filled you with longing.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, willing your heart to slow down. 

He reminded you too much of Loki.

How could your body be so easily deceived?

This was not your god and yet it was so utterly tempting to just give yourself to the desire that spread through your body. Give in to the urge to lean back against him and sink into the safety of his arms. Touch him. Feel him.

"Are you even listening to me, flower?" Loptr asked and laughed softly.

You jolted upright, panting lightly. 

"I'm sorry. I was - uh - distracted." 

Your hands were shaking now and Loptr tightened his hold on you a little. 

"Are you afraid?" He sounded sincerely concerned and the last thing you wanted for him was to worry, so you quickly shook your head. 

"We can take a break if you need to. Do you wish to continue?"

You nodded and forced yourself to focus.

"Right, then." Somehow his mouth has found its way to your ear again, and you shuddered a little at the sensation of his breath against your skin. "Feel the flow of your seiðr."

You closed your eyes, bemused to find the small rivulets had grown into powerful, pulsing rivers of light. It seemed that your seiðr had grown stronger through his touch and when Loptr rubbed his thumbs over the back of your hands, it seiðr flared up with an intensity you had not felt before. Your breath hitched and a surprised gasp escaped you when a bright purple flame exploded between your palms, before it flickered and died. 

"Keep it! Do not allow it to fade", Loptr commanded, gently pressing his cheek against yours as he leaned over your shoulder and the flame flickered up again. "Good. Feel it. Own it."

You closed your eyes and tuned back into the sensations within you, feeling the pulsing rhythm of your seiðr that seemed to rise and fall like the ocean tides. Before your inner eye, you could see the intricate web of subtle nerves that carried the energy of your seiðr. You saw it. You felt it. You became one with its flow.

"Good", Loptr whispered. "Now, command it."

A tingle ran over your skin as you could willed a flame into being, feeding it with the steady pulse of your magic. First, you held it there, in your imagination, then you opened your eyes. Purple threads of light were flowing off your fingertips, forming a small, bright ball of fire that hovered between your palms. This time it did not fade.

An excited giggle escaped you. 

"I did it. By the Norns, Loptr, I did it!" You felt Loptr's chest vibrate with soft laughter. 

"Yes, you did it, flower." he said softly. 

"I did it, even though you tried to distract me." Loptr's hands moved down to your wrists, wrapping around them, and he smoothed his thumbs over your palms. 

"As a matter of fact, I did help you. I  _stimulated_  the flow of your seiðr." 

"W-what -? How?"

"Seiðr is your life-energy. It is your with vital power, the fire of your passion. The more passionate you are about something, the easier it is to feel your seiðr. I find it easy to arouse your passion."

"Do not flatter yourself", you scoffed and the light between your hands disappeared.

"Oh, I have no need to flatter myself." Loptr chuckled. 

You frowned. It was not fair. It was merely because he reminded you of your god, that was the only reason, you were attracted to him. 

"You cannot deny it, flower." Keeping hold of your hands, he boldly pulled you backwards into his arms and pressed his cheek against yours. 

A pleasant warmth spread in your heart. The feeling of safety flooded you. You wanted nothing more than lean into his touch.

Why did he have to be so much like Loki? Only that he treated you with nothing but kindness and respect.

"Does your god not allow you to take a mortal lover?" The man who still held you in his arms whispered huskily.

The longing to melt into his embrace grew unbearably strong with every word of his.

Wait. Loptr was a sorcerer ... could it be that he had  _bewitched_  you to win your affections?

"I merely wish to remain faithful to my god." You muttered, fighting against your feelings. 

"Is he truly worth it?"

"Who am I to judge him?" You attempted to wiggle out of Loptr's embrace, but he kept a firm hold on you.

"You are remarkably stubborn, woman." He breathed against your cheek. 

"As are you. I thought I had made it clear that I do not appreciate your touch."

He huffed a laugh and finally let you go. 

"I beg to defer, flower. You _crave_  my touch."

He was right, and it confused you to an unfathomable extent, because you should not feel the way you did in his presence. Even if he really _had_ put a spell on you. You were bound to a god by the power of your heart  _and_  ancient love magic. There was no stronger bond in the world of men. 

You pressed your hand on your heart.

_How could your heart betray you?_

"Have you - have you bewitched me, Loptr?" There was a slight tremor in your voice as you asked the question. Maybe because you feared the answer, whatever it would be.

"I have not." Loptr's tone was firm, even though his voice did not lose its gentle touch.

You believed him. And yet, your feelings did not make sense. 

"I will always choose him over you, Loptr. Always." 

"Then I shall strive to make your determination waver", He quipped without hesitation. 

"Have I misjudged you? I thought you kind, but how can you care so little about my feelings, Loptr?"

"I care more deeply than you would ever understand." The grave tone of his voice surprised you. "So deeply that it frightens me, flower.

You spun around to look at him, but miscalculating how close he was and almost bumped into him, his face suddenly only a breath away from yours. A flicker of pain ghosted across those glacier blue eyes, it was so brief that you thought you had imagined it, then his dark lashes lowered and his gaze fell to your lips.

"Will you not even allow me a small taste of your lips?" He whispered and you could not move, enthralled by the sorcerer's presence. 

"I can give you what you need, little flower." When you did not move, Loptr leaned forward and at the last moment, you brought your hand up and placed your fingers over his mouth. He raised his gaze to search your eyes, astonishment clearly written all over his features. 

He suddenly let you go and you weren't quite sure what to say or do. 

"Such loyalty." He muttered as he caught your hand slipping from his lips. You pulled your hand from his and turned away, feeling at a complete loss as to why you were so torn inside – or rather, why your heart responded to Loptr as if he was Loki - because in this moment you realised to your utter shock, that Loptr's presence had filled the void inside you. A void that should have only been filled by your god's presence. This - this could not be.

Was his seiðr the reason for this? But even so, your own seiðr was bound to your god, so how -

Loptr sighed softly as he spoke your name, but you could not get yourself to look at him. A moment later there was a soft shimmer of green light and your eyes went wide as a small ball of light appeared and hovered in the air just above your lap.

_What in the name of the Goddess?_

With a popping sound it exploded into countless sparkling stars and a tiny creature fell into your lap with a squeak, scrambling around a little disorientated before it sat down and raised its head to look at you.

An oversized head sat on a comparatively small body with short arms and legs, instead of fingers and toes, tiny roots extended from the small hands and feet. The creature's face consisted merely of eyes, large, emerald green eyes, and a tiny mouth. A single, bright green leaf randomly sprouted from its head.

Your lips curled into a smile. It was not hard to recognise the creature in your lap. It was a tree spirit, a very young one. Judging by the silvery shade of its pale skin it was the spirit of a silver beech.

As those large emerald eyes blinked up at you, your heart made a little leap.

"Mama? You call me?" the voice was no more than a squeak. It was utterly adorable and you hadn't seen one in a long time.

"I did." The creature turned to glance at Loptr, its eyes growing larger, if that was even possible. 

"Your voice?" It enquired seemingly surprised.

"Yes, that was my voice you heard." Loptr nodded. “It was I who called you.” 

The small creature nodded, then it shrugged.

"Sound like mama."

You chuckled and stole a glance at Loptr. Every man would have been mortified to be compared to a woman, even by a tree spirit, you were sure. But then, you had also witnessed him weaving a flower crown with a little girl.

You gasped a little, when tiny, albeit strong root-fingers reached for your hand, prodding it curiously before the tree spirit comfortably settled in your palm, its emerald eyes shifting between Loptr and you. 

"She wants to play." Loptr said and nodded towards her, but you wanted to know more.

"How – how did you call her? Why did she say you sounded like 'mama'?" _And why did this not bother him?_

"I called her in the voice of the birch tree. Why else would she think of me as mother?" Loptr offered nonchalantly, and you stared at him.

"You know the songs of the trees? I thought - I thought that was something only seiðkonur could do? To call on the trees."

"My mother – was a great seiðkona.”

“But that -”

“Enough questions." He interrupted you before you could finish your sentence. "I will have to send her back soon, so why not make the most of the time you have with her?"

You glanced down at the little creature sitting in your hand, the small arms perched along your index finger and the joint of your thumb as if it was a comfortable chair, swinging her short legs. So innocent.

"Are you apologising for trying to kiss me?" You asked as you turned your head to search Loptr's eyes.

"Why would I feel the need to apologise for that?” He retorted, then he added, “I merely hoped that she would brighten up your mood. You seemed - flustered."

Your gaze returned to the tree spirit. Remembering the few times you had played with one, you carefully poked her belly with your index finger. Sure enough, she exploded in squeaky giggles of delight, wiggling around in the palm of your hand. Her reaction made you laugh out loud, instantly dispelling the tension that had built up between Loptr and you.

Far too soon, Loptr sent her back to the tree she belonged with, but by that time your heart had lightened and you were ready to continue your practice. Using light touches and whispered endearments as an excuse to “stimulate” your seiðr, Loptr kept teasing you, but you had to admit that it did make your practice easier and you grew more comfortable with his closeness.

That evening you returned to the god's home with a light heart and a basket full of food. The villagers had decided to take turns in supplying you and your god with food, sometimes even sweets. You suspected that this was an offering to Hveðrungr to either keep him away from the village or implore his protection. Maybe both. Although, it seemed that not everyone in the village was afraid of him. Since the day Loki had appeared to deliver the dead marauders on their horses, there was whisper amongst the women about the god. His strength, his beauty. It was the women who insisted you took food for you and Hveðrungr.

When you entered the house, you were surprised an relieved to find your god at home, even though your words of greeting were ignored. Attempting to keep your heart as light as it had been through the afternoon, you took a bath before you set the table and made some tea.

Loki wordlessly slipped into his seat as soon as you finished, but when you settled in your usual spot, facing him. He growled.

"You have lost the right to eat with me at the table." His voice was cold and you stared at him in disbelief.

Without even raising his red eyes to acknowledge you, the tall dark god pointed to the floor beside him. 

"If I am not mistaken, _this_ is where a pet belongs."

Your fingers fisted the fabric of your dress. How dare he?

But then you forced yourself to relax. You had decided to obey him, hadn't you?

Slowly, you rose from your seat and walked around the table to where Loki was sitting. When you reached out to fill your plate, his cold fingers closed around your wrist.

"You will only eat what I offer you." He hissed. He forced you down onto your knees, before he released your wrist.

With a deep breath you willed yourself to stay calm. The more you resisted him, the worse it would get. If your god chose to humiliate you, you would learn to be humble.

The floor was cold and now you could feel tiredness seeping into your limbs. It had been a long day and practicing with your seiðr was far more draining than you had expected. The god's strong thigh looked inviting and was right next to your head, so you gingerly leaned against it. Your eyes closed when his hand came to a rest on your head.

Safe.

A moment later his fingers tightened in your hair as he yanked your head away from his thigh.

“This is not the time to get cosy, pet.” You groaned at the treatment, forcing yourself to stay focused. The hard floor underneath you, the rough handling, his cold voice, it all triggered emotions and memories that you did not want to face.

Loki nudged your lips with a piece of bread and you opened your mouth without thinking, taking it from his fingers and bringing your attention to the food. He fed you small bites. Cheese, bread, some meat.

At least he was not going to let you starve.

You chuckled silently at the irony of your thoughts.

Where had all your pride gone? Where was your determination that you would never allow a man to treat you like this ever again?

The chair screeched over the floor as Loki pushed it back, then he placed his almost empty plate in front of you.

"There, you can lick it clean."

A rush of tears pricked your eyes and you felt your throat tighten, but you picked the few morsels of food from the plate and put them in your mouth.

You had endured much worse than this. _Much_ worse. 

He patted your head and rose.

“Be a good servant and clean up.” Was all he muttered before the god settled in his chair by the fire.

After you had tidied everything away, you went to the bathing chamber to change into your night gown and by the time you returned, Loki was perched on the edge of the bed. A mixture of fear and excitement swirling inside you when the god spoke your name to call you to him.

“Your hand.” he ordered and you extended it towards him.

Without another word, he unlaced his pants and guided your hand inside. A small gasp escaped you when you felt the velvet skin of his hardened length against your palm.

“This”, he said, “Is entirely your fault. Now tell me, what are you going to do about that?”

You frantically searched his eyes, unable to tell what it was he wanted to hear. Was he toying with you? Was he trying to humiliate you? Was he asking you to pleasure him?

He pulled you closer, positioning you so that his thigh was between your legs, touching the inside of your knees. You flinched when he ripped the front of your gown open, enough to expose your breasts. The bright glow in his eyes sent a damp shiver between your thighs.

Loki leaned forward, tasting the tip of your breast with his tongue, pulling it between his lips with his teeth. A loud moan left your throat and one of his hands settled on the small of your back, while the other wrapped around yours, enclosing his length in both of your hands. You moaned softly when he started moving and you could feel him grow even harder. Instinctively sank down on his thigh, but a sharp stinging pain on your behind ripped you out of your daze.

“This is not about your pleasure, whore, it is about _mine_.” The dark god growled.

You whined in protest. His cold lips, tongue and teeth on your tender flesh, the touch of his hands, it all aroused a throbbing need between your thighs, and the fact that you could feel him – firm and strong – between your fingers, multiplied this need tenfold.

You needed him. 

“Loki”, You moaned, your free hand threading in his hair.

He grunted and worked harder, now groaning against your skin as his thrusts quickened. You pressed your knees against his thigh, allowing your own need to grow.

Then the dark god suddenly abandoned your breast. Picking up the pace with one hand, he grabbed you by the small of your neck with his other and pulled your face down towards his. His voice was strained with pleasure as he spoke, and yet it was so cold that it pierced you like a spear.

“I revoke your right to call me by my name”, he panted against your ear. “You are _nothing_ to me, whore. Nothing but a slave I take my pleasure from. And you will address me the way a slave addresses their master, do you understand?”

In an instant, your pleasure dissapated, giving way to the familiar cold feeling of terror clutching your insides. Your hand fell from his hair as if your fingers suddenly lost all strength. 

Not that. He could do anything, but not - not that.

“How will you address me?” His fingers wound through your hair in a tightening grip and fear snaked around your body, cutting off your breath as is strangled you with cold and maliciously gleeful determination.

You shook your head and Loki hissed.

_Please, don't ask me to do this. Please, don't. Please._

You bit back the tears. Don't let him see you how much this hurt you.

“How. Do you. Address me, _slave_?” He stroked himself faster, your own fingers had lost their grip and it was only Loki's hand that kept them in place.

“Master”, you choked out in a whisper, swallowing the tears and fighting the memories those words threatened to bring back to your conscious mind as soon as they left your lips.

Letting out a guttural growl, Loki stiffened and you felt him twitch between your fingers. You watched in a daze as strings of cool, milky seed spurted over your hands and on his abdomen, the white standing in stark contrast to his deep blue skin.

"This is what you will call me from now on." He panted, catching his breath. "And unless I invite you to my bed, your place is on the floor." You heard him say.

When he finally let go of you, you slumped down on the floor in a heap.

_Be strong. Just be strong._

Loki tossed you a woollen blanket, which you pulled against you, curling up around it.

At least he had not tied you up, you told yourself as you silently cried yourself to sleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Loki!!!!


	12. Overcast with a gentle breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and support on this and your patience!!  
> Happy Advent Season! *** :))) Hope you will enjoy this.

Happy Advent Season!!! :)

(my own version of a delightful blue Loki and his priestess)

 

The tall, dark god stood, staring into the dying fire. He felt empty. His entire being was filled with an endless void of somber meaningless. A state he could not recall to have ever felt before. A single tear glittered down the icy, blue skin, tracing the curve of his cheek before it fell, causing a dark stain to blossom on the forest green tunic.

_Had he lost his mind in his obsession to break the spell?_

He had subjected the woman he claimed to love to the situation she feared most. He had not only humiliated her and taken away her dignity, he had abused her trust.

Even he, who would commonly bask in his all pervading self-righteousness, knew that what he had done was wrong. So very wrong, that he had felt it in every fibre of his being, because every single word he had directed against the young priestess tonight, had been a stab to his heart. It frightened him how, the more he had said, the deeper the pain had penetrated into his being. By the time he ordered her to sleep on the floor, it felt as though his chest had been torn open and everything inside was ripped apart.

Despite the pain, he had been determined to push the girl beyond her breaking point. He had expected her to stand up against him. Scream, yell, fight.

Only, that she never did.

Instead, she accepted whatever cruelty he unleashed upon her without complaint. 

By the Norns, he could not figure out why she put up with his gruesome treatment. She was mortal, but she was far from weak. The girl had stood up to him before. Had insulted him and even dared to assault him. Never in a millions years, had Loki imagined that she would wordlessly surrender to his whims.

And yet, it had been exhilarating to hold that much power over her and he could not deny that he had revelled in feeling her break.

The dark god rubbed his forehead and then pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes. 

She had made him angry. So very angry. The longer she stayed in this quiet submissiveness, the angrier he became, and the more he had wanted to see her break. The more he had wanted to hurt her. And in the end, he had hurt her more than he ever intended.

_Norns, what had he done?_

Had she not sought refuge in his arms to shelter her from nightmares that tormented her? Had she not pleaded with him to not ever make him call her "master"? And had he not assured her that she was safe with him? That he would not let anyone harm her?

A soft growl escaped the god's throat as his chest contracted painfully.

_"I know him to have a tender heart. He is neither heinous nor cold-hearted."_

Loki sniggered darkly at the memory of her sweet words. It seemed that, in the end, he had proved her wrong. He did not own a heart, not anymore. It had diminished with each word directed against her. 

The knowledge that she was still bound to him, tormented him. No such innocent creature should be bound to a good like him. A God of Strife and Chaos. A god who thrived on hurting those he loved. What good could come to anyone devoted to him, unless they strove for hatred, pain and suffering?

Was he so terrified of this love that he would rather ruin her than admit to it?

He _loved_ her. He knew it, because he had not felt this in centuries. This wonderful. This torn. This ... helpless.

But Loki hated the fact that her love was merely founded on a wretched spell and that she did not truly reciprocate his feelings. If only she would give up this foolish desire to remain obligated to him. Surrendered and loyal as she was, he would believe her to be the very Goddess of Fidelity in human form. A goddess certainly not suited to a pairing with the God of Lies.

Maybe, had he been in full control of his powers, he could have read her thoughts and would be able to understand why she chose to surrender to him rather than fight him. But without the full extent of his seiðr, he was blind. He failed to understand her. 

 _It is to be used only to protect and defend or with innocent intent._ The Allfather had declared when he banned him from the Realm Eternal. 

 _Innocent intent._ Loki had huffed. _You might as well strip me of my powers._

And yet, even though he could not manipulate her, or read her mind, he had found a way to use his magic to aid her and make her smile. As Loptr.

Initially, he had thought that he could break the spell and let her go, however, in this moment, he was willing and ready to sacrifice twenty or thirty years of his existence to stay by her side, here on Midgard. By the Norns, he truly had become a pathetic creature. A slave to his feelings. 

Never before had the dark prince desired more to seek the counsel of his mother, which was impossible, of course, as he had lost the privilege of communicating with Asgard while in exile. Thor had visited once, months ago, delivering some of Loki's possessions, those his mother thought of sending to make his life here more comfortable. His favourite chair, a few crates of books, some clothing and other items. Loki was certain that Odin was entirely unaware that both Frigga and Thor were making his exile on Midgard more convenient for him. His mother was too sly and the Allfather would have never agreed to such measures.

Slowly, the god turned around, resting his gaze on the girl's curled up form. His mother would most certainly not be proud of his actions - and his priestess would never forgive him, even if he pleaded with her.

With a soft growl he clenched his teeth.

She was not his priestess, even though she stubbornly believed it. Such a sacred bond was forged through the love of the heart and was sealed with the act of the Sacred Union. The Sacred Marriage between the a god and a mortal soul. It was a common practice in Vanic traditions his mother had told him about.

No, love was not the basis of the girl's relationship to him. It was fear.

That was what she had told him that night he so slyly persuaded her to treat him as a lover. She had told him that she had not been prepared to become intimate with somebody she feared. Fear was what truly bound her to him, because the ancient enchantments of bonding magic, worked with any kind of strong emotion projected towards the object of bondage. Any kind of attachment. Positive or negative.

And it was the intensity of the emotion that the seiðr of the enchantment used, to forge an attachment on a mental, emotional and physical plane. So, the more she feared him, the stronger the bond. Loki had thought this to be to his advantage, because the easiest way to disable a bond forged by a lesser emotion was to override it with a higher emotion. There was no higher or more powerful emotion than love.

Loki had even been prepared to take the risk that the magic would have reattached to his Aesir form, although this was highly unlikely, since the seiðr of the bond was fed by the original emotional connection and once dissolved, the bond should have disintegrated.

Had he overlooked a something? Had miscalculated? Was she affected by the magic in ways unknown to him?

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

Why had he been so bent on breaking the bond? He could have just kept her, as his lover. She would have grown devoted to him and he could have enjoyed her with all she had to offer.

Except her love.

Loki was a master of lies and illusion, but he was far too vain to settle for fake love. No, if he could not make her love him, he would rather not have her at all. 

 

***

You woke to the sensation of the cold, hard floor underneath you. It felt as though you had hardly slept and you cracked your eyes open, squinting against the light. Judging by how light it was, it was already late morning. You groaned. So late. As your mind slowly crept back into the reality of the waking consciousness, the events of last night rushed back to you with a vengeance.

_Loki._

You felt your stomach churn and quickly glanced around. When you found the house empty you pulled yourself up onto the bed and slid under the covers. Maybe a little more sleep would help. The softness of the sheets and Loki's scent that lingered in them, relaxed you enough to let you close your eyes and drift off. It was only a short while later, when a nightmare forced you upright, your heart racing and your breath coming in short gasps.

Maybe no sleep, then.

You reluctantly climbed out of bed, nibbled on a piece of bread while you combed and pleated your hair, and dressed, readying yourself to face the day. 

***

For the first time since you had met him, Loptr was in a sullen mood. His handsome features did not hold the familiar lightness and his usually clear eyes were overcast, when he looked up from where he sat on the forest floor. You were surprised to find him a fair way into the forest and it looked like he had been sitting there for a while.

“What are you doing here, Loptr?” You asked, perplexed about his sombre temper and concerned about the fact that he had come this close to Loki's dwelling.

“I have been waiting for you, priestess.” Brushing the dry leaves from his cape, he rose gracefully and you could not help but notice that his gaze avoided your eyes.

"Are you alright?" It troubled you to see him in such a gloomy state. 

"I am fine." He answered, without looking at you.

“It's too close to his house.” You muttered and started walking, letting your gaze roam through the forest, to seek any sign of your god. You had no desire for Loki to find you in  Loptr's company and unleash his wrath upon him. Even though the sorcerer was strong, you doubted he could compete with your god, and you would never forgive yourself to see Loptr hurt.

“I do not care.” Loptr muttered as he fell in beside you.

“You should. I wouldn't want to see you hurt.” Especially not now, when you needed him to keep you sane.

 _Selfish,_  you thought, _it was selfish to take advantage of him like this._

“How – are you?” There was an tangible caution in his voice.

"I had trouble sleeping, that is why I am late."

Loptr cleared his throat.

“I know he's hurting you", he said suddenly, catching you completely off guard. You did not answer, only walked a little faster. “I noticed the bruises on your wrists yesterday. Did he -”

“It's none of your business.” You snapped, immediately feeling sorry for letting him take the brunt of your frustration and your pain.

Loptr halted and grabbed your arm, forcing you to come to a halt yourself.

“Why do you refuse to leave him?”

“Because he is my god.”

The sorcerer snorted.

“What kind of god inflicts pain on a person who seeks his protection?”

You did not turn around to face him, because you had no answer for him. 

“He does not deserve your devotion, can you not see it? He is a God of Strife, you are a priestess of the Sacred Rock.”

Your lip quivered.

By forcing you to call him master, Loki had not only stripped you of your dignity, he had betrayed your trust. Loptr was right, wasn't he? What kind of cruel god was he to make you suffer your worst fears?

But worse than that was that you had allowed him to hurt you. You could have defended yourself, fought him, instead you had surrendered to his cruelties.

Loptr spoke your name softly. 

“Please. Stay with me, maybe - maybe I can make up for the things he did to you.” His voice was so soothing, and he was pleading.

_Why did he care so much for you?_

When you turned around to look at him, he tugged you close and pulled you into his arms. You did not resist but leaned into his chest, slipping your arms underneath his cloak and around his waist as his strong arms embraced you carefully.

You took a deep breath. He smelled like forest air. And winter.

_Like Loki._

_Dear Goddess, help me. I cannot go on like this._

This man held so many similarities with the god you loved that it almost drove you insane. If you closed your eyes, you couldn't even tell the difference anymore. 

_Where you in such desperate need of kindness that you imagined all this?_

_Was your heart so confused that it couldn't tell the difference between a mortal and your god?_

And why was your god never pleased with whatever you offered? He had been so angry last night. It seemed that even your surrender angered him.

As you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into the Loptr's embrace, you became aware of the silence that pervaded the forest around you. A peaceful quiet that was enhanced by the echo of a distant birdsong and the wind whispering gently as it swept through the still leafless branches of the trees. Neither of you spoke for a while. Loptr held you and you relished the peace you felt in his arms. When you finally loosened your hold on him, he reluctantly drew back.

You halted and rested your forehead against his chest a moment longer, then turned your head, gazing into the forest as you held on to the seam of his cape.

The patches of melted snow glittered in the sunlight and you noticed a tiny robin who was perched on one of the low branch of a nearby tree, cocking its small head to the side as it watched you. Nature was always moving, always growing. Nothing ever stayed the same. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to move on.

So, why did you feel stuck? Why did you feel that you had no choice? 

You always had a choice. 

True, you were bound to your god, but did that really mean that you had to endure any kind of suffering he inflicted upon you without complaint? Even if you wanted to love him unconditionally?

The Sacred Union was a bond of love. Love was based on mutual respect. On equality. On a balance of power. 

It did not make sense that you felt powerless before your god. 

Although, since it was a bond of balance, it suddenly made sense that the more you submitted to him, the more power he would exert over you. 

You reluctantly pulled away. 

"Let's go." You said and Loptr followed you wordlessly.

When you stepped out of the forest, a young girl, Eydis, came running towards you, waving and calling your name. She had a bright smile on her face and her reddened cheeks were glowing. 

“The elders bid you to come and see them, vǫlva.” She said when she reached Loptr and you.

You frowned. It was not often that the elders asked for you, but the smile on the girl's face made the knot in your stomach ease a little. Why did you react with fear to being called? Nobody here had ever done anything to harm you. Loptr seemed to sense your unease, because he moved behind you and rested one of his large hands protectively on your shoulder.

"What is their reason for calling her?" He asked and Eydis glanced up at him shyly, evidently weighing up her answer. 

"They wish to speak with her about the upcoming festival of Ostara. I do not know any more." The girl said.

He squeezed your shoulder lightly. 

"Would you like me to join you?"

You shook your head.

"It's nothing out of the ordinary to meet the elders."

"But you are tense", he whispered.

Of course, you were - after all that happened last night. It had brought things back to you. Unconscious feelings and fears ... and an incessant feeling of doom that lingered in the pit of your stomach. 

"You are too worried, Loptr", you replied and reached up to give his hand a reassuring squeeze, realising by the way the girl's eyes widened a little that the gesture was one too intimate for an unmarried couple to share in public. You quickly pulled your hand away and cleared your throat.

"I will find you after I've met the elders. I'm certain it won't take long." 

You felt his hand slip from your shoulder and before you could say anything else, Eydis took your hand to lead you away. When you were far enough to be out of earshot, the girl turned her face up to you with a smug smile.

“Loptr likes you. Will you - marry him?”  The innocent question made you smile. Eydis had just reached the age to be married, and was growing into a real beauty with her light-coloured eyes and flaxen hair. So, it was evident that the prospect of marriage was starting to become an important part of her life.

“Well, do you think he would be a good husband?" You retorted with a smirk. She grinned and shook her head.

"Oh. And why's that?"

"Because, I'm sure he would take you away to keep you for himself, and I like you. I don't want you to leave."

You chuckled softly. 

"Loptr is merely my teacher. So, do not worry, I don't plan on marrying him. I actually believe that I prefer to stay unmarried."

"You're a volva”, the girl heaved a small sigh, “You don't _have_ to marry."

"That sounds as though you're not too happy to get married yourself."

"My father is promising me to Ove." She pouted.

"Ove's a brave young warrior."

"But I like Haldor!" she blurted out and you felt your heart twinge. 

"You do have the right to deny Ove, do you not?"

"I could."

"Haldor could propose to you."

"It's dangerous, though. My father guards me like a hawk, if he suspects that Haldor did anything untoward or tarnished my honour ..."

"Well, ... has he?"

"He wrote me a poem", she confessed. "And we secretly met once or twice in the forest to talk."

You firmly closed your fingers around her hand. 

"Eydis, Haldor should go and see your father, before anyone finds out. You know that a clandestine love can have dire consequences."

She nodded. 

"You're still young. You shouldn't even be thinking about this." you sighed. 

"Where you come from, is it different there?"

"Where I come from, a woman has the freedom to choose her husband at will. But many of my kin were priestesses, so we were not married as it would have interfered with our service to the Goddess. Priestesses had lovers rather than husbands, but if they ever found true love, they were free to abandon their role and lead a family life."

"What about children?"

"They were raised by their mother together with the community. My mother was my clans dróttning, the High-priestess, she loved us very much, but we spent much time with different women and men in our clan."

"Us? Do you have any sisters?"

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you nodded. 

"I had a younger sister and a baby brother." You tried to keep your voice as steady as possible and decided to bring the subject back to Haldor. "Do you wish for me to speak with Haldor? Encourage him to seek out your father?"

"Would you do that?"

"Of course. If your heart is truly drawn to him, I will."

"Do you believe it exists? Inn mátki munr*, I mean?" The girl said with a hopeful sigh.   * _(The mighty passion  - true love)_

"I believe it does."

"So, if Loptr is your lover? Is that what you feel for him?"

You felt your cheeks grow hot. 

"Loptr is not my lover, he is merely my teacher."

"But the way you look at him ..."

"Because I admire him. Where I come from, seidr is only taught by women and I've have never met a man who is as skilled in the art of magic as he is.”

Eydis frowned. 

"He hasn't told you?"

“Told me what?” You offered her a quizzical look and she raised her eyebrows at you. 

"There are no  _men_  like him." She muttered, adding to your bewilderment. “Have you not asked yourself why his skin looks soft instead weatherbeaten? Why the elements can't seem to touch him? Or why he doesn't have a dwelling place and yet he appears each day looking perfectly dressed and groomed?"

Now your mouth opened, but it took another breath or two until you managed to speak.

“He doesn't - stay in the village? - but I thought he – I thought he stayed in someone's house as a guest?”

The girl just shook her head.

"So, where - where does he go?"

Eydis shrugged. 

"Some say he goes back to his realm, others believe him to dwell in the forest or even the clouds. We don't usually question a god about his whereabouts.”

_Uh._

"A god?” You stammered and Eydis eyebrows drew together in a deep frown.

"You really don't know? Did he make you believe he's one of us?"

You nodded slowly, while your mind was frantically attempting to absorb this new information. 

"That's very naughty of him." The girl tutted as if she was speaking about another child, then she squeezed your hand. "Loptr like games, you know. Maybe he's just playing with you. But it's naughty, I think you should get him back for it."

That instant, you came to a halt in front of the mead hall, where the elders held their meetings.

"We're here." Eydis said and with that, she let go of your hand and dashed off, disappearing between the buildings, while you were left to collect your thoughts. 

_Loptr? A god?_

If you thought your situation confusing before, it was utterly baffling now. It didn't make sense. Why would he even have any interest in you? You had already given your vow to another god, and a priestess' choice was highly respected, even amongst the gods. You had never heard of a god attempting to claim a priestess _after_ she had been chosen. So why would he try and lure you away from Loki? Even go so far to ask you to leave him?

With those thoughts on your mind, you stepped into the longhouse. A handful of people had gathered, amongst them, the tall man they called Gangráðr, who had sent you out into the forest a couple of moons ago. Beside him stood a tall woman with long, light-coloured curls with a golden shimmer that cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. When you met the gaze of her kind eyes, it immediately warmed your heart.

“Welcome, child”, the woman greeted you and you finally felt the unease dissolve from your stomach. “The reason we called you here is because hold the festival of Ostara in a few days time and would be honoured if you could offer blessings and invoke the Goddess."

You stared at her for a long moment. Of all things, you had not expected them to ask you this.

“I'm not accustomed with the rituals of your kin. The ways of my kin may differ greatly from yours.”

She smiled.

“You are a priestess of the Goddess, you hold the Vanic gods sacred, do you not? Our kin revers Freyr as you know, the god of Fertility. We would be honoured if you could invoke his blessings, too.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. Were they – were they asking you to unite with Freyr?

“I have already given my vow to another god, it is my duty to stay loyal to him.” You tried to sound as courteous as possible.

“You misunderstand”, the woman laughed softly. “We merely ask you to join the dance and the festivities, bless the food and mead and take care of the offerings.”

“Oh.” You sighed a small sigh of relief. “That is _all_?”

A smug smile appeared on her lips. 

“Why, what was it you thought we would ask of you?”

“That I – that I take a lover.”

“While I am certain that any of our men would be honoured, your heart seems fiercely loyal to your god, and I believe he would not be pleased to find you in the arms of a mortal. Is there anything else that is unclear?"

You shook your head.

"Do you agree then to take on the task?”

You merely stared at her and nodded. 

"Well, it is settled then." She smiled and the elders murmured in agreement. "We shall provide whatever you require, just let us know."

When you turned to take your leave, the woman touched your arm to hold you back. "Why don't you sit with me for a moment, child?"

She led you towards one of the wooden benches that were covered with colourful woollen throws and patted the spot beside her, inviting you to sit.

“I can see that something is troubling you.” the kindness in her voice opened your heart and you sighed.

_Where would you even start?_

Maybe start with what was on your mind right now. 

“Loptr … is he truly a god?”

“To tell the truth, he mostly behaves like a spoilt prince rather than a god, but yes, it is true. He is an immortal being, who has blessed this village for generations - in one way or the other.”

“He's a god of this region?”

“Loptr dwells in many places.”

“Is he - one of the Vanir?”

She smiled.

“I fear he is far too conceited to be of Vanic blood."

"Where does he come from then?"

"He hails from Ásgarðr.”

“Ásgarðr? The realm of warriors?"

“Loptr - he is not like other gods of the Realm Eternal. His strength lies in the seiðr that runs through his blood, his cunning and his wits. While other gods strive to rule and keep order, Loptr values his freedom. He blows in like the wind and disappears before anyone can tie him down.”

“What … what kind of god is he?”

“An agent of change, a Trickster.”

_A Trickster?_

Her warm hand cupped yours and she patted it gently.

“Sometimes he causes chaos in an attempt to turn a situation for the better. He can seem heartless, but you should not be fooled by appearances."

You shook your head.

"No, he hasn't done anything of that kind. He's been very good to me."

“Because he cares for you. It is the longest he has ever stayed in the village and we know he is here because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Child, is it not obvious that he is courting you?”

“But he – he can't. I've already chosen my god. It's impossible -”

The woman merely offered you a gentle smile.

“You owe him your life, you know.”

You stiffened, staring at her wide eyed and slightly confused.

“Why - would I owe him – my life?”

“Well, yes, I am surprised myself that he has not told you. I thought he would not miss an opportunity to brag about his valiant _rescue_.” There was a tinge of amusement in her voice and her eyes twinkled when they met yours.

“Rescue? What - what do you mean?”

“Loptr appeared in the village on the morning after Yule, together with a handful of women and children, survivors from a village North of the woods that was destroyed by a wrathful god. Apparently, Loptr had also saved a girl from slavery that night.”

“Me."

"You."

Eir's words trickled back into your mind. 

_“The young man who brought you here. A mischievous spirit and usually up to no good, but he does own a tender heart much like his mother. He found you in a village he passed through and said that you were in need of care as you had been mistreated and held as a slave."_

You had completely forgotten about that mysterious “young man”.

“That was Loptr?”

“He begged Eir to take you in. Telling her that you had been mistreated and held as a slave. That you would have surely perished had he not taken you away.” The woman breathed a sigh. “It was touching to see him so concerned.”

_He had saved you and brought you here? Why had he never told you?_

“Is this why I feel so safe with him?” You bit your lip, you had not meant to say it out loud.

“Your heart knows where you belong."

You shook your head.

“But – it cannot be. I gave my heart to Loki – I mean, Hveðrungr. And it doesn't even make sense that Loptr would court me, when I have already chosen another god -”

She took your hand in hers and searched your eyes.

“It is not important what you _believe_ to be true. The only thing that matters is what your _heart_ tells you, my child. What do you _feel_ when you are with him? In here?” One of her hands pressed against the centre of your chest.

“I - I cannot trust my heart anymore, because it cannot tell the difference between Hveðrungr and Loptr.” You clasped your hand over your mouth. "And it cannot be, because my heart is bonded to Loki through love, a love strengthened by magic. And yet, when I am with Loptr, it seems that my heart betrays me.”

Raising her eyebrows, the woman took your chin between her fingers and gave you a stern look.

“And what, if your heart does _not_ betray you? What if there is more to your god than you can see with your eyes? Things that only your heart can see clearly?”

Her grey eyes locked with yours and for a moment a shudder of recognition ran through your entire being.

“Who – who are you?” You asked and she let go of your chin. Smiling, she cleared her throat.

“A worried mother.” She muttered under her breath, aloud she said, “You better go back to your duties, child.”

Then she gave your hands a reassuring squeeze and rose, when you did the same, she offered you another smile.

“Heed my words, child. The god you love has many faces. He is a master of deception and illusion, bare that in mind. Your eyes and even your mind may deceive you, but your _heart_ never will.”

 

 

 

dróttning - is the equivelant to queen

Ostara - the spring equinox. Ostara is a German Goddess and very little is actually known about her. It seems that she's a rather "young" Goddess. In older times, it is believed that the spring equinox was a festival of Freyja and Freyr or even Idunn, as it is marks the beginning of summer and also new life. 

Apparently the year in Viking times was split in two main parts - Summer and Winter.

 

Fun Viking Facts:

So, here some interesting facts about dating in the Viking era .... courting was hazardous!

Marriages were usually arranged by the father and girls were married at a very early age. A girl had no say in whether she wanted to marry someone or not, but apparently it was best for the parents to get their daughter's approval, as a marriage that was entirely against the girl's will could result in problems. Women were also allowed to divorce men (if their husband used violence, or - which I love - if their husband wasn't _performing_ the way he "should").

Even though Vikings were regarded as savage, when it came to courting, the suitors were poetic and lyrical in their pursuit of a young woman of their choice. Apparently, evidence of romantic gestures can even be found in runic verse. While it was romantic to compose _mansongr or "maiden-songs",_ it was also potentially lethal, as love songs were feared to hold magical enchantments that would bind the woman in question - another problem could arise as these "poems" suggested a more intimate knowledge of the beloved girl than was considered appropriate. The reputation of a woman reflected upon the honour of her family: if her honour was tarnished, so was that of her father, brothers, uncles, cousins and sons. So, any dalliance with a woman's reputation was likely to bring down the wrath of her entire lineage upon the hapless suitor! - Ouch!!

This really made me laugh:

 _All of the family sagas agree that **courtship "was the single most deadly pastime for the young Icelandic male"** (Frank, p. 476). The most important, unwritten rule of courtship was that the less a hopeful groom saw of his bride to be before entering into formal marriage negotiations with her family, the better were his chances of staying alive. _\--- tough times!!! no wonder they were fearless warriors!

The family elders would be vigilant of the number of visits potential suitors paid towards a young maiden, and, if a suitor was slow in making his proposal, it was seen as an offence and the relatives of the maiden were often quick to reclaim her honour by blood-vengeance - Geez! You really had to get it right!! - they did have a good reason though, because according to the sagas, a prolonged courtship more often than not resulted in an illegitimate child. 

_Despite the hazards, some courtships did occur. Attentions paid to a woman by her suitor, including visits, conversations, and the making of poems in her praise were expected, and apparently welcomed by the girl, no matter what her family may have thought (Foote and Wilson, p. 111)_

_The traditional day for weddings in the North was Friday, sacred to the goddess Frigga (Hilda R. Ellis-Davidson. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. Harmondsworth: Penguin. 1964. pp. 110-112)._

There are also sagas and poetry recounting stories of true love, i _nn mátki munr_ , "the mighty passion". Interestingly, it is often a love that is described as one that developed during marriage, which is nice, because most marriages were arranged and not based on mutual love.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frigga's just as sneaky as Loki. :)


	13. Blue Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI there, everyone!!
> 
> I hope you are all well and coping with the current situation. Since I suffer from PTSD I needed to address and deal with the new fears and anxieties that came up, and I take this as an opportunity to face and overcome them. It's not easy, but I'm doing my best and I have more peace of mind now. 
> 
> I hope this chapter will give you joy and a nice distraction.   
> Forgive typos and other weird stuff - I haven't been able to proof it .
> 
> Lots of love to all of you!!   
> Keep strong and healthy and fear-free!   
> 💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓
> 
> PS: Sorry I haven't answered comments over the past week - I started a new therapy which has been challenging. Will try and catch up soon.

You watched Loptr from a distance. Everything about him was perfect. His nature was kind, gentle and courteous. His stature was lean and tall, yet strong, and his appearance more than pleasant. The raven locks that fell down to his shoulders where well-kempt, soft and shiny, framing a finely cut face with flawless pale skin, and those beautiful water-coloured eyes with the long, dark lashes truly gave him the appearance of a god.

It was uncanny how perfect he was.

How had you not seen it before?

And how had you not noticed that the velvet caress of Loptr's voice enthralled you completely when he whispered into your ear? How had you not noticed that distinctive purr it held?

How had it escaped you that you felt safe in the Trickster's presence? That you found shelter in his arms?

Because he was different to your god. In appearance and demeanour. 

The fact that Loptr treated you as an equal, that he enjoyed to make you laugh and showed you that he cared, was quite likely the most prevalent difference between him and Loki. 

Could it really be that they were one and the same?

You were determined to find out.

Patiently, you watched as Eydis and her brother reluctantly abandoned Loptr when their mother called them for the midday meal. When the children had left, the dark sorcerer settled on a bench by a nearby longhouse. Eydis' mother reappeared to offer him some mead and a plate of food, which he accepted with a courteous nod and a few words of thanks.

Pale, slender fingers wrapped around the drinking horn and he brought it to his lips, taking a long gulp. Loptr's eyes met yours then and he drew the horn from his lips, a soft smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. Now that he had discovered you, there was no use in hiding any longer, so you approached him with quick strides. It was time to find out who this God of Trickery truly was.

When you walked up to him and took the drinking horn from his fingers and brought it to your lips, one of those dark, elegant eyebrows rose. You drank, focusing on the comforting warmth that spread through you with every gulp. It was a strong brew. Exactly what you needed right now to muster your courage.

"Thirsty?" Loptr asked mischievously and you emptied the last of the mead, before you nodded in reply, searching his eyes. He blinked at you. "How was the meeting with the elders?"

"They asked me to invoke the Goddess' blessings on Ostara." You replied.

"Invoke the blessings of the Goddess? And what would that entail?" He asked softly. 

"They would like to choose a man worthy of me to unite with. A lover." You twirled the empty drinking horn between your fingers and bit your lip. "I agreed."

_Would he even fall for your lie?_

You squealed, dropping the drinking vessel in surprise, when Loptr grabbed you roughly and pulled you down onto his lap. Gripping your chin between his fingers, the god's eyes turned into pools of ice as his gaze bored into you.

“You did _WHAT_?” His voice was a low hiss.

A far too familiar low hiss.

You merely stared at him, your own eyes widening when you noticed a glint of red flaring up in the depth of his gaze.

So, it was true. Your god was deceiving you in a most unfathomable manner. 

All restraint fell away the moment you realised that Loptr indeed was none other than the Jotunn-god who had stolen your heart. Despite of how Loki had treated you, you loved him and now that you knew yourself so close to him, a prickling heat rose up from your core. A heat that was mixed with the tingle of excitement.

Seeing his emotional reaction and evident disapproval was satisfying, because it meant he cared, but it was also somewhat infuriating, because you could not make any sense of his behaviour. Why was he deceiving you? Whatever his reasons, you decided to play along, for now.

“It is my duty as a priestess. I owe it to the people, they have been nothing but kind to me.” You tried to keep your voice as steady as possible. 

“You owe it to the _people_? Do you always have to think about others? You are not a common priestess, you are consecrated to a God”, Loptr snarled, the red in his eyes glowing a little more brightly.

"But you said it yourself. You said that taking a mortal lover would do no harm, even if I was consecrated to a God. I am not doing this for my own pleasure, I am merely fulfilling my duties." While it was satisfying to feel his grip on you tighten painfully, he was evidently unaware of his own strength. "You are hurting me."

As soon as you muttered the words his hold on you loosened. A low growl rumbled through Loptr's chest and he took a deep breath to collect himself while you watched the anger dissipate and the softness return to his eyes. Then the god gently cupped your face. 

"Flower. You cannot do this", he breathed, back to his gentle self.

“If I cannot even fulfil my duties, then why would _you_ ask me to leave Hveðrungr?”

“Because, I cannot make you mine if you stay with him.” The anger had vanished completely, more than anything, Loptr sounded defeated. You searched his eyes. It did not make any sense. If he was Loki, then why was he doing this?

“You _must_ leave him, flower.” Loptr brushed his thumb over your cheek in a gentle caress. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and shook your head. 

"I _cannot_ leave him", you said. "I vowed to love him unconditionally.”

Loptr's green eyes widened in shock.

“Why – why would you vow to love a monster like him?”

Even after everything Loki had put you through, you could not bear to hear him insulted.

“Don't call him that."

"Flower ..."

"I cannot help it, don't you understand?" You cut him off, the strength returning to your voice and your heart. "He is my god. I _love_ him.”

“You do not love him, flower.” Loptr huffed impatiently. "You are bound to him by _magic_ , nothing more. Your love is nothing but a farce. It is not real. You were manipulated into loving him by some fatuous curse."

The glint of anger had returned to his eyes, but you were dumbfounded.

Could it be possible that he was unaware of your love for him? And if so, why did he refuse to love you as Loki, while he seemed so keen on having you close to him as Loptr?

Why did your god have to be so confusing?

You let your hand slip to the small of Loptr's neck, touching the braids that lay underneath the layers of dark locks. Loki had braids in exactly the same spot. You knew it, because you had braided some of them.

Why could he not simply be honest with you?

Tears welled up in your eyes as your fingers closed around the pleated strands of hair. You were unable to discern if they were tears of anger or tears of pain.

“I cannot be anyone else's", you said defiantly, "We consummated the Sacred Union. He is my god and I am his priestess."

For the second time, Loptr's eyes widened and his lips parted as if to say something, before he closed his mouth and averted his gaze. 

"What are you saying?" He stammered. 

"I am telling you that I am bound to him - by the deepest and most ancient love magic." Your words seemed to hit him with physical force. Very slowly, his eyes came up to meet yours.

"The holy bond between a priestess and her god? ... The Sacred Marriage?" His tone was careful, unsure.

Could he truly not have felt any love for you this entire time? Was the bond one-sided because he was of Jotunn blood?

"The sacred act of Love that allows a priestess to enter into bliss and receive a vision of the Goddess." You said. "I might not have chosen him consciously, but my certainly heart did, so I cannot choose anyone else."

"Impossible", Loptr stared at you, still processing the meaning of your words. "Such a bond can only be forged under certain conditions on Miðgarðr. Only at the height of light, the summer solstice. It is only then, that a priestess can bind a god with love."

"A god of light." You corrected him. "Because Litha is a festival of _Light_." You tightened your grip on his hair and leaned your forehead against his. "But my god is not one of Light. He is not Vanir, he is Jotunn. A giant from a realm of ice and darkness."

"A creature of darkness." Loptr whispered, seeming to understand what you were trying to say. "A sacred bond with a god of darkness would be consummated at the height of darkness."

"The longest night", you clarified.

"The winter solstice." Loptr drew a shaky breath and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Tell me that you are mistaken”, he whispered against your hair, there was a pleading tone to his usually confident voice. “Tell me that you did not give him your heart. Please. It would be a grave transgression, if he hurt you while you were bonded with him in this way. It would be a crime worse than ...” His words trailed off and you were taken aback by the exasperation in his voice.

“I believe that he is unaware of our bond", you whispered, "How that is even possible, I do not know. There is also another bond that connects us and he was obsessed with breaking it. He hates being bound to me. That is why I vowed to endure whatever he would subject me to."

"Foolish creature." Loptr breathed and heaved a heavy sigh. 

"I believed that a god reciprocate the love of his priestess. But I do not know if a priestess ever united with a Jotunn god. Maybe it is because of his ancestry. I do not know why the Norns brought us together, we are mismatched in every way, but I can only blame myself for giving my heart to a conceited god, whose own heart is made of ice and who seems to take pleasure in hurting those who love him." The bitterness in your voice hurt your heart, but you could not hold it back. You were angry. Disappointed. Hurt. And confused.

And at the same time you wished for nothing more than to love this treacherous Jotunn-god.

"If the ancient bond connects us, would he not love me? Would he not suffer my pain? Would he not hurt himself by hurting me?”

Loptr drew you closer and ran his fingers over your hair. "He is a fool", He breathed. "Your god is a fool."

"I just - I don't know what gave him reason to doubt me."

"Do you truly believe this to be your fault?"

"I must have done something wrong if he despises me ... and to love unconditionally is far more difficult than I anticipated. I thought it would be easier to endure the pain."

"Do you believe that this is what it means to love unconditionally? To surrender to the suffering inflicted to you by the very person you claim to love? To endure abuse?"

“I wish to accept him for all he is. Accept his light and his darkness.”

“Then, accept him, but it is foolish to please him at his own terms if he causes you harm. Allowing him to inflict pain has nothing to do with love. It is harmful. You should never, _never_ allow anyone to treat you like this.” Loptr drew away from you and his eyes were full of concern when he cupped your face with both hands. "Promise me. Promise me that you will not allow anyone to hurt you like this again. You are strong. Incredibly strong. I have never met a mortal woman as fearless and head-strong as you. You defied a god even warriors flee from. Not once but several times. Do not allow your love to cloud your judgment. Do not allow your devotion to enslave you. A god has no more power over you than a mortal. If you truly love your god, then you will not tolerate unreasonable behaviour. If you love him, you must be ready to put him in his place, if needed."

"But he is my god. He owns me, does he not?"

"He may own your heart, but that does not give him the right to abuse you at his sweet will. Nobody - _nobody_ has the right to do that. Neither a mortal nor an immortal soul. Your god was wrong to hurt you. He was wrong, do you hear me?"

Your hand slipped down his chest and came to a rest over Loptr's heart. It was the slow beat of Loki's heart that comforted you when he held you in his arms at night. You tried to comprehend the words that Loptr had spoken.

"Do you think he regrets it? that he hurt me?"

“Had he been aware of the truth ...” Your god broke off and took a deep breath. “His motives were selfish. I cannot see how he would ever deserve your forgiveness.”

So, he did regret it. And yet, he was not willing to admit the truth to you. 

"Why? I mean, why would he hurt me like he did? He told me that the magic of a bond strengthens, if he hurt me - so, why?”

“Love magic is complicated." 

"How complicated can it be?" you scoffed and Loptr rubbed his forehead.

"It depends on what part of you is bound. It depends on if the magic settles in the mind, the emotions or in the body. A bonding magnifies the attraction you have to another person. It will make you crave the other person. But there is a vast difference between lust and love. Lust is attached to the object of your desire, a person's physical appearance, even an emotion or a mental imprint. But love comes from directly from the heart and it binds in a different way. It is a form of recognition rather than attraction, because the heart has the capacity to identify with the other person as a whole. A spell that has taken root in the heart, is almost impossible to undo, while love magic that is based on mental, emotional or physical attraction, can be weakened or even broken.”

“How?”

“One must divert the attraction towards the heart.”

“You mean, make them fall in love?” You asked. It was absurd, but it began to make sense. "You are saying, one could break a spell if the person fell in love with someone else?"

"It works", Loptr said "In theory, at least."

This was why? Loki tried to break the bond by making you fall in love with ... Loptr?

"My god is a fool", you muttered and searched his eyes, but he kept them cast down, so you placed your fingers under his chin to lift it and he peered up from under his lashes, those green eyes vulnerable. "I believe he was afraid of my love and I do not know if he is worthy of my forgiveness", you said softly. "But why would I choose you? Even if you pledged to love and respect me, why would I be a fool and fall for such an promise? What could you offer me that would make me love you?"

"Nothing." The word was merely a whisper. "I thought I could give you everything your heart desired, but I was blinded by my pride. I believed you had to be worthy of me, when in truth, I should really prove myself worthy of you."

You watched him intently and your gaze trailed down to his lips. They looked thin but soft and you asked yourself if they would feel like Loki's were you to kiss them.

"There is a legend of a time when morality fails mankind and men will become like beasts. A time when our gods fail to protect us and the Goddess withdraws from the world."

"I will protect you", he started out, then he halted and cleared his throat. "That is ... should you allow me to."

"Do I have a choice?” You asked, letting go of his chin. Loptr caught your hand before you could withdraw it. 

“You always have a choice.” 

“I am a priestess, Loptr, my fate was laid out for me the moment I was born. I am a priestess of the Goddess, a Goddess will fall into oblivion."

"Then you will be the one who keeps Her ways alive. You will pass on the knowledge to others." He gently squeezed your hand. "And I vow to help you with this. I vow to be a companion to those in need. Those who find themselves on the fringes of society."

"You're a trickster, how can I trust you?"

"Because, just like you, I do not belong anywhere. I was cast out of a home that was never truly my home. I am a god who lives by his own rules, who has to find his own way." Slowly he let you go, then he rose and offered you his hand. “I would like to show you something.”

You took his hand and he hugged you close.

"Close your eyes."

There was a gentle tug behind your solar plexus, followed by a drop in temperature that made you shiver  For a moment you were unsteady on your feet, so you grabbed Loptr's arms for support. You could tell that your surroundings had shifted. The air was cooler and songbirds were suddenly singing close by.  When you carefully opened your eyes you gasped, because you were no longer in the village, but somewhere deep inside the heart of the forest.

Loptr carefully turned you around, so that you stood with your back against his chest and he let you take in your surroundings. The two of you were in the centre of a clearing, surrounded by tall beech trees. The sunlight fell through the leaves, creating patterns on the still brown grass.

Loptr raised his hand and a green mist rose from his open palm, swirling above it for a few moments before it sank to the ground, spreading and covering the grass around you in a wide circle. 

What happened next made your heart burst with a sweet sensation. As the soil absorbed Loptr's magic, tiny green shoots began breaking through the grass. Before you eyes, seedlings grew into small plants and you watched in awe as they unfolded their leaves and tiny buds appeared along the stems. The buds opened into blue star shaped blossoms and within the space of a few breaths, the entire clearing was covered in blue bells that stood in full bloom.

Loptr undid the clasp of his cape and spread it on the ground before he gestured you to sit. He settled next to you and for a long time, you merely sat there, drinking in the magic and peace of the flowers. They were incredibly beautiful. 

“Do you like it?” The velvet, dark voice of your god finally broke the silence. 

“It is breathtakingly beautiful.” You answered sincerely. "Thank you."

When you turned to look at him, he leaned forward to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, his finger rested there for a moment before it brushed along your cheek. Then the gaze of his glacier eyes settled on your lips then and you felt a small shiver of anticipation trickle down your spine.

“May I kiss you?” he asked cautiously.

You bit your lip in an attempt to keep tears from welling up in your eyes. This was quite likely the most beautiful thing he could have done. 

Ask your consent. He had never done that before.

The god took your hesitation as a sign of your unwillingness and pulled back, casting his eyes down in what you thought was disappointment or maybe even shame, so you quickly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pressed your own lips against his. They were soft, just like you thought they would be. But they were also warm. Keeping a tight hold on him, you nudged his lips with yours and he willingly opened his mouth. The kiss was different. Softer. Warmer. More careful.

And you were the one in charge. 

When your lips parted, you smiled. 

"You may." 

A small smile flitted across Loptr's features before he cupped your face and kissed you again, with more fervour and this time he threaded his fingers in your hair. You groaned and pushed him backwards to the ground, moving on top of him, straddling his hips. 

“You truly are the God of Lies, Loki”, you breathed and felt his body stiffen. Then you leaned forward to brush your lips against his and braced yourself on your elbows, studying his face. The god's eyes fluttered open, the look he gave you was guarded, but he did not speak. 

“If you wish to be freed from this bond so desperately, you merely need to say the words. All you need to do is ask my forgiveness.” 

Very slowly, he shook his head.

“I expected you to be angry, should you find out. To yell at me - or slap me at least.” He narrowed his eyes a little, as though he expected you to lash out at him unexpectedly. 

“You would most certainly deserve it, but I broke my hand last time I attempted that.” 

“I would gladly heal it for you."

“I would take you to trial again for your absurd and entirely foolish attempt on breaking the bond, if that didn't mean incurring _another_ bond.” You growled and Loptr's gaze faltered.

“Forgive me.” he whispered "I am usually better at breaking things."

At his words, you felt something unravel inside you. Then something was pulled from your solar plexus with force, at the same time your heart exploded in pain and you fell forward against Loptr's chest. He was quick to catch you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. 

"What was that?" You panted. 

"The bond. You are free now", he explained. “I will find a way to dissolve the other bond, too, although I am unsure how long it will take. Love magic that is rooted in the heart is difficult to --”

“Loki", you interrupted him and roughly grabbed his chin, "You are an even bigger fool than I thought.”

His eyes widened before his face settled in an expressionless mask.

“I do not deserve your respect, woman. Nor do I deserve your devotion. I treated you like a slave. What kind of god would hurt the one he loves because he is too cowardly to admit his love for her?”

You searched his eyes, keeping hold of his chin. 

"My kind of god." 

It seemed to be enough to vanish his doubts, because he grabbed you by your waist and a moment later, you were on your back, the hands of your impatient god all over your clothed body and his lips devouring yours greedily. 

You had missed this. You had missed him. 

Terribly. 

"Loki", you breathed, no longer hiding the need that was now very evident in your voice. 

As if to answer your plea, Loptr's cool, large hands slipped underneath your dress. Goosebumps blossomed on your skin as he stroked your thighs.

"Does that mean you forgive me?" He asked huskily as your lips parted. 

You pushed him off you and gained the upper hand again, straddling his thighs so you could fiddle with the lacings of his trousers.

"I have yet to decide." You replied cheekily and were pleased to see his eyes grow dark as he watched you free him, which only made you more eager to feel him inside you. With a soft moan, you adjusted your position and let yourself sink down on him. 

Your fingers dug into his shirt. 

You had forgotten how he filled you. But this time you were more than ready for him and you took him, inch by inch, steadily moving your hips, while you held his gaze. his eyes were on you. Lips parting in a soft pant. 

"You are warm", you whispered, oddly surprised and it made him chuckle.

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's - different." You frowned and lowered your body, to catch his lips again. 

“I wish to serve you as your god", He whispered against your mouth. "As I should have done from the beginning.” 

“How could a god possibly serve a mortal?” you scoffed and moved your hips, clenching your insides. He hissed softly. 

"Are you tormenting me with pleasure for my misdeeds, priestess?"

"That would be too mild a punishment for you." 

His eyes changed at your words, making him look vulnerable and guilty. you brushed a dark strand from his forehead and regarded him as you moved your hips gently. 

"You are so - different - when you are Loptr. You almost make me feel as though I am ..."

"As though you are what?"

"As though I am your equal."

"I thought myself different, too, but in truth, there is no difference between this form and the other."

"Then show me. Make me feel you, Loki. Make me feel - my lover. The lover you pretended to be for me. The beautiful, savage god I fell for with my heart and soul."

Loptr gripped your hips to hold you in place as he sat up. He ran his hands up your back, his green eyes deep and clear when he spoke. 

"I fell for you in the forest. The moment you defied me. The moment you refused to kneel before me, despite of your fear. I lost my heart to you, because, what I smelled was not smell fear. No. The only scent that filled my head was the exquisite fragrance of a sweet flower. And it dazzled me. Bewitched me. Without knowing it, this was the moment I gave you my soul, priestess."

Before you could say anything else, he entangled you in another kiss, and you lost yourself in the sensations of his touch and the feeling of bliss that rose from deep inside your core. You also lost track of time as you loved your god, in the middle of a field of blue bells, and the sun was low by the time your bodies settled next to each other on top of Loptr's cape. Your skin was sticky with sweat, and you shivered as the heat of your passion slowly faded. Loptr pulled you close. 

"Let us return home, my love." He whispered. "My priestess."

 

 

 

more fun facts about Vikings:

Even if they were not in love before the wedding, the couple would try and cultivate it afterwards. Husbands would seat their wives next to them if they wanted to show affection. Couples could also express their closeness by sharing the same drinking horn. If a husband was feeling very affectionate, he would ‘ _put her on his lap’_  where he and his wife could indulge in “kyssir hana’ – a kiss and a cuddle. Or he would put his head on her lap, and she would stroke his hair.

(very sweet)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you would like to happen next - I am open to ideas and suggestions. I have about three more chapters in my head, but thought if anyone has good ideas, I might extend it a little. 
> 
> Thank you!!! hugs and kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Kindly let me know your thoughts.


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